robin_sparkles | Recent Entries

Thirty.

Yeah, Robin was still not used to that at all. She had been thirty for weeks now and she still didn't feel that different, but at the same time, she didn't feel so much twenty-nine anymore. It was like this big flashing sign was over her head now saying that Robin was an adult woman and now had to be held to those standards. And god, but that sucked to even think about.

Hence why she was at Karen's door just days after her birthday (aware that this one was the big 3-0, too) and had a bottle of wine in hand. "Open up," Robin demanded. "I've come to inebriate you."

Sometimes, Robin could take all five dogs at once with her womanly powers of prowess and her sharp dog-heeling skills. Sometimes, she could barely take them two at a time and then she had days when they wanted to chew everything, bark until their throats were raw, and dig up everything and she could deal with them one at a time. Today was like that. She'd hooked up Colt to a leash and locked the others in their room, heading out for a brief jog.

"I swear to god, if this doesn't tire you out, we're talking about puppy adoption," she warned Colt as they started the light jog down the paths, having to yank on the leash more than a couple of times as they went and some four-legged thing had too much damn energy for his own good.

Robin definitely thought that there were a few things about the Island that didn't wholly suck. For one, she had Barney there with her and for another, he'd gotten that really awesome laser tag park. Why bother running for your workout when you could be playing an awesome game of the L-tag. She was breathing heavily while hiding behind a tree, trying to keep calm and get her wits about her.

"Okay, Scherbatsky," she muttered to herself. Her adrenaline was running high, she was going to win this sucker, she was going to shoot him good and dead and if this had to be her gun-substitute, then so be it. She braced herself and darted around a tree, scanning the area.

Robin had woken up in the morning with a new look on life. It was so happy and so perfect and so everything that she couldn't even explain (rainbows, joy, peace and love) and she couldn't find a single thing wrong with it. Especially seeing as she could just prop herself up on one arm and stare down at Barney.

That definitely put a smile on her face and she reached out to play with his hair, imagining what things would be like if they spent forever in this bed with each other. Maybe they could even have a kid one day. They did have some pretty neat genetics between the two of them.

"Barney," she murmured drowsily, still toying with his hair and watching him sleep. "Let's talk, Barney."

Robin definitely knew that she could get up and go, but the truth was that she wasn't exactly sure her limbs were going to work properly just yet. She collapsed back against the sheets and the conveniently placed Lewis Nixon-shaped man that was lying there with her, trying not to let herself get too down or too thoughtful or too...well, too anything. She let out a quiet sound of content that somehow managed to get distraught too.

Yeah, the whole not-thinking thing wasn't working for her.

"Lewis?" she spoke up finally, staring at the wall. "You ever think about how maybe sometimes you kind of aren't the kind of person you think you are?" Because yeah, she was having that in spades. She really did think she was going to be okay with this, but now she was starting to get worried about attachments and feelings and maybe she was more Ted Mosby than she really thought.

And she couldn't pine like Ted could.

But still, it really wasn't escaping her notice that she only slept with three men anymore and she managed to get pretty much zero of them in a traditional sense. Barney was trying, god help him, he was, but it still wasn't like having a boyfriend so much as a ... well, a bro.

Robin knew that what they were doing probably was so far from healthy that it was insane, but she kind of couldn't find it in her to care. Barney was at the strip club and so she could either sit at home with the dogs and let her imagination run wild, or she could do something about it. Skinny hadn't been anywhere she'd looked, so she went down a familiar path, right to the Officer's Club instead.

And hell, she didn't even know who she was hoping would answer the door. No, that was a lie. She knew exactly who she wanted, but if Winters pulled it open, maybe she would have been shamed into turning around and going home.

But Robin was so not easily shamed. So she was all over knocking firmly on the main door, praying quietly under her breath with a constant, "Please be Lewis, please, please, please."

So she had made things as official as they got and now she happened to be Robin Scherbatsky: Woman Without A Boyfriend again. Or, at least, that was how she presumed it to be, given the fact that much as she liked the single life, there was Barney's offer on the table. She just kinda hoped he was back to being normal and wasn't so much wearing the slut shirts, anymore.

She made her way up to the Compound with some cigars tucked away in her jeans' pocket and couldn't help a sly grin as she approached Barney's door, trying to keep herself from getting too weird or bent out of shape about this.

Just because he loves you doesn't mean you need to feel anything back, she told herself. After all, he wants to screw around, still. It's all good.

"Barney, you in there?"

Presumably, our pups have lives that happen when we aren't playing them, as none of us can play 24/7. Some of the things that happen are tedious and everyday, and not worth thinking much on: It's fair to assume they eat, bathe, go to "work" or school as it applies, etc. But there might be things that happen between pups that, while not necessarily requiring a thread, are important to note for the sake of development. The important stuff should always be played out, but we know you can't always play everything, and sometimes you need a little nudge in the right direction.

PLOT GOES HERE.

She had a full bottle of wine in her hands and she had to get away from Barney and not see Winters and right now she needed Lily and Ted and Marshall and oh god, why were they all gone? So in the lack of best friends (who weren't Barney! Lily's chipper voice piped up), Robin made a beeline for Winters' best friend.

"Lewis, Lew," Robin pleaded when she caught up to him, still clasping the wine to her chest like it was a baby puppy. "Help me."

Robin had forgotten what it was like to have puppies around her again. Sure, she was used to five dogs, but three in the puppy stage and one from an almost-lesbian-lover was pretty overwhelming, even for someone who loved animals. It was the training, really. She had them mostly house-broken and now she was trying to get the commands down.

She figured she deserved a break after getting the four of them to learn 'sit', which was why she felt she deserved to stuff her face with all the jell-o she wanted in the world, waiting for one of her pies to finish baking. Once she was done that, she could drop in on Lennox or maybe Barney or maybe just head over to see if Dick was doing anything.

Not until the pie was done, though. There was time to be had.

Robin had no doubt in her mind that all men in any century needed to understand the greatness that was the Godfather. Maybe not any of the following sequels (well, two. Two was classic), but there was no way to go but the route of insistence that Richard Winters had a dire need to watch the Godfather.

After she'd found herself a miniskirt and a decent green cotton top for the evening (sweating it out was really, really overrated), she went to collect him, having argued for three days with the bookshelf for the reel. She'd only won the argument by insulting the bookshelf's mother, which admittedly was a low blow, but you did what you could.

She knocked on the main door of the Officer's Club, praying and hoping it was Dick or that blond guy and not Nixon. Because that would just be way too weird.

Of all the weird crap (oh god, no, she shouldn't swear, if her Dad were here, he would kill her for not being manlier and saying something like 'son of a bitch') that had ever happened, Robin thought this one took the cake. She'd woken up tiny and a child. A horrible, childy-child. She hated kids, never wanted them so why was she suddenly waking up with inadequate hands to grab things and and...and it wasn't fair!

She had lugged herself up and found clothes before heading straight to the Clinic, intending to sulk for a good while and if she had to visit Barney, she might as well get it over with.

Even her chair was too high off the ground and then, oh god, then. Then she actually thought about spending a couple of hours with Barney and her cheeks slowly started to go hot, go pink, colour and be really embarrassing. She rubbed at them with the back of her hand, wishing it would go away already, but it wasn't.

Oh, gross. Was she doing this because of a boy?

"Hi, Barney," she greeted and worse, oh god, son of a bitch, so much worse. Her accent was right back to where it used to be before she grew up and escaped from the Great Ootdoors.

Robin had just about cancelled this 'date' a dozen times before she turned up for it -- on time, she had to add. It was just...well, she wasn't a lesbian! Was she? No! Mostly not. And even if she was (which would totally be okay), was she really abandoning guys for it? She still had John around and she definitely didn't want to drive him away.

So there was this and it was just casual. A date. Just a casual date. She'd decked herself in a miniskirt and a white button-down with a black blazer atop, a thin tie making the joke for her so she didn't have to make a comment about playing the man.

Now she just had to not have a panic attack. That would be good. "Lacy?" she asked, clearing her throat at her door. "I'm uh, I'm here for our date. Thing. It's Robin. Scherbatsky."

Robin had made sure she was looking absolutely rocking and that she had brought it for the date, not even going home to change so much as ducking from the Clinic to the washroom and putting on a thin-strapped red number before heading to the kitchen to meet up with her date. And okay, yes, she was a bit late and it was because she was reading porn with Barney, but come on, who needed to know that.

She sidled into the room, hopping into a pair of sandals and beaming. "Hi, sorry I'm late, had to get ready. We're good? Ready to go?"

Robin had been working on bringing two of every meal out the kitchen door ever since Barney had arrived. She was definitely starting to feel taxed because moral support was one thing. Bringing alcohol, conversation, entertainment and food? That was something else entirely but it wasn't like she was going to abandon him or make Marshall do it all. So she did it and was happy to.

And some days, she got to meet the most interesting people in the kitchen. Like today, for instance.

"So you do eat," she observed, leaning one palm against the closest table to him. "And here I thought you just enjoyed the sound and taste of your own words."

After a little bout of flirting and drinking, Robin had snuck up to a couple of glasses of wine and checked the perimetre of the party carefully and then had tried to make a sly little exit with the alcohol, heading straight for the Compound. It was kinda impressive that she managed to only spill a couple droplets of the wine, too, on her way back and she was also glad most everyone was out having their party as she snuck into the Clinic.

"Okay, you can say it," she started, nonchalant and smug. "I'm totally your best bro," she said with a grin, heading over and setting the wine down (she even had a straw. How awesome was she?)

Even if there was no Carl and no Wendy the Waitress and no regular booth (well, except the one Marshall had pretty much made), Robin still liked to dress in her best (because looking hot made her feel really, really good) and going to the Hub to just sort of sit on a booth and pretend like this was just some new bar she was hanging out at.

Like tonight. Little black dress, makeup, hair done well, she was set to go.

And yeah, she didn't have a cigar or anything like that, but hey, she was at a bar. How wrong could life be when you were in a bar, right?