Alyx took the painting carefully, holding it as if it were the most fragile object in the world. She looked at it again, this time more calmly, more attentively. She saw Lily's brushstrokes, the way she had captured not just Marshall's body, but his spirit. That mix of strength and vulnerability that made him unique. She glimpsed the love Lily had put into every stroke, every shadow, every detail.
"It's beautiful," she said softly, almost to herself.
Ted and Robin exchanged a glance. Barney opened his mouth to say something—probably inappropriate—but Robin put a hand on his arm and shook her head. Even he understood that this wasn't the moment.
"Lily painted it years ago," Alyx explained, her voice softer than usual. "In college. Marshall didn't want another guy posing for her art class, so..." She paused briefly.
"He had to do it himself," Alyx finished. "He told me about it. He said it was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, but for Lily, it was worth it."
"That sounds like Marshall," Robin said with a small smile.
Alyx nodded. Then, with a sigh, she looked up from the painting and at the three intruders. "What are you going to do with this?"
The question hung in the air. Ted and Robin looked at Barney, who, after all, had started all this.
Barney shrugged.
"Honestly, I don't know. My first instinct was to use it to torture Marshall. It's what I do. But..." He paused, something unusual for him. "But then I saw the way Lily painted it. It's not just a nude. It's... I don't know, it's like she put everything she feels for him into that canvas. Using it to humiliate him would be like... like..."
"Like kicking a puppy?" Robin suggested.
"Exactly. And I don't kick puppies. Puppies are adorable and smell good."
Ted nodded slowly. "Barney's right for once. That painting is special. It shouldn't be used to hurt anyone."
Alyx looked at the three of them, assessing. In her other life, in the fragments of the future she remembered from the show, many crucial events had happened. But sometimes, some varied from her memory because of her intervention. She'd come to that conclusion since seeing that the slap bet challenge hadn't ended with the outcome she knew. And this painting event reinforced that premise. It led her to believe only that the world was full of surprises.
"We should put it back," Alyx said decisively. "Put it where it was, as if nothing happened. Marshall and Lily don't have to know we found it."
"And miss the chance to see Marshall's face when he finds out?" Barney protested, though without conviction. "The chance to have that power over him?"
"Yes," Alyx replied. "Miss it. Because some things are more important than power, Barney. As unbelievable as that may seem to you."
Barney looked at her for a long moment. Then, slowly, a smile spread across his lips. It wasn't his usual conquering or arrogant smile. It was something more like respect.
"You know, Alyx, I like you more every day. You're like a female version of me, but with morals and fewer suits."
"That's... almost a compliment."
"It's a compliment. The best I can give right now. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go find my phone. Again. I think it fell behind the piano."
That night at MacLaren's
The group was gathered as usual. Marshall and Lily arrived together, holding hands, with that ease they had of being close to each other even after years together. Ted and Robin were arguing about whether polar bears are really left-handed (Robin claimed yes, Ted said it was an urban myth). Barney was telling an endless story about his latest conquest, a woman who, according to him, had "legs that went all the way to the floor and beyond."
Alyx watched them from her usual spot, between Marshall and Lily, feeling the warmth of their bodies on either side. In her bag, she carried a key she didn't need—a gift that meant more than words could express. In her mind, she carried the memory of the afternoon: the three conspirators crouched behind the piano, the painting of Marshall naked, the decision to keep the secret.
"You okay?" Lily asked, leaning towards her. "You've been quiet today."
Alyx smiled—that small smile that now appeared more often. "I'm fine. Just thinking."
"About what?"
"About how strange all this is. How life sometimes takes you to places you never expected. Or how one painting can mean so many different things to so many different people."
Lily looked at her with curiosity but didn't press. One of the things Alyx appreciated most about her was that ability to leave spaces, not to fill every silence with questions.
Marshall, for his part, was immersed in an argument with Barney about whether the painting Barney had "found" (and Alyx had "returned to its place") was or wasn't a work of art worthy of mention.
"It's not just a nude, Barney. It's a part of our history. Lily's and mine. It has sentimental value."
"Everything has sentimental value if you put the right price on it," Barney replied with his textbook philosophy. "For example, I'd pay a lot of money for a painting of myself naked. In fact, I'm thinking of commissioning one from Lily."
Lily choked on her beer. "What?"
"Five thousand dollars. You paint me, I pay you. Fair deal."
"Barney, I don't..." Lily said hesitantly.
"Seven thousand, and I promise not to hang it anywhere public. Well, maybe in my office, but my office is private. Private but with occasional visits from important people who need to know I'm a Greek god."
Marshall opened his mouth to protest, but Alyx put a hand on his arm. "Let it go. It's not going to happen."
"How do you know?" Barney asked, offended. "My offer is very generous."
"Because Lily promised Marshall he'd be the only man she'd paint naked. And Lily keeps her promises. Even the ones made years ago, in college, when things were different."
There was a silence. Lily looked at Alyx with a mix of surprise and gratitude. Marshall squeezed his fiancée's hand under the table. Barney rolled his eyes, but didn't insist.
"Fine, fine. But if you change your mind, the offer still stands. And if not, there's always the option of hanging Marshall's painting behind the bar. Or who knows, can you imagine one in the subway? On the bus? In a Macy's sale ad?"
"Barney, I swear to God..." Marshall started.
"Relax," Robin interrupted. "He's just winding you up. He wouldn't do any of that."
"Are you sure?" Marshall asked.
"Sure. Because if he did, Ted and I would make sure everyone saw that video of you dancing in a thong at the New Year's party."
Barney paled. "There's no video."
"Are you sure?" Ted asked with a malicious smile. "Because Robin has a copy. I have another. And I think Carl has a third, just in case."
Barney looked at Carl, who, from the bar, raised a hand and nodded with an expression of professional satisfaction. The bartender had been accumulating customers' secrets for years, and that one was among his favorites.
"This isn't over," Barney muttered, sinking into his stool.
"It always ends, Barney," Alyx said, with a calm that surprised even herself. "Just not always the way we expect."
The night continued. Laughter filled the MacLaren's booth. Carl served extra rounds, as he did when the atmosphere was good. Ted forgot about his Druthers drama for a few hours. Robin told more absurd stories about polar bears. Barney planned his revenge out loud, though everyone knew it wouldn't go beyond words.
And Alyx, sitting between the two loves of her life, felt for the first time that the cracks no longer hurt. That the gold had sealed them. That the building, against all odds, was still standing.
Stronger than before.
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The story moves forward, and so do the characters. Do you think Alyx, Marshall, and Lily are handling the whole painting situation well? Or does Barney deserve a chance as a model (even though we all know how it'll end)?
I want to read your opinion in the comments. Don't forget to follow this fic and support with power stones. Every stone is a toast at MacLaren's!