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Ted POV
Damn it.
I remembered now.
This was the plan!
He was going to pick up some women at the airport.
And now I was already here, standing beside Barney Stinson in the arrivals hall after he tricked me, watching him casually drag his suitcase like a predator surveying open terrain.
It was already too late.
We stood near the edge of the arrivals area, people flowing past us in every direction, families reuniting, couples kissing, hugging like they'd survived something together. I took a slow sip of my coffee, pretending I wasn't already regretting every decision that had led me to this moment.
"So," I said calmly, without looking at him. "You're going to pick up women at the airport?"
Barney turned to me with a grin so wide and confident it should've been illegal in public spaces. Or maybe in some parks.
He even winked at me!.
I remembered this tactic.
He'd used it for days, using the same tactic over and over again.
Until airport security started recognizing him, the man who left his luggage.
Yep. I was out. Too late or not, I don't want to be part of this!
"Okay. Goodbye," I said immediately, starting to turn to leave. I took exactly two steps before Barney grabbed my arm, stopping me mid-step and making me stumble a little.
"Ted!" he shouted, loud enough to turn several heads. "You can't abandon your own brother!"
People started to stare at me.
"I cannot believe you're going to leave me!" he continued, clutching his chest and pulling his most dramatic, Oscar-unworthy sad face.
I can see a tear! Damn this dumb blonde whore man!
"…You son of a bitch," I muttered through clenched teeth.
Barney gasped sharply, placing a hand over his heart. "Ted! That is your mother too!"
I froze but the stare was still there, looking deadly at him.
He smiled with a Victorious smile now.
"Scenario," Barney said smoothly, instantly shifting back into salesman mode. "A couple of girls fly into town. They're excited. They're free. They're looking for a fun weekend in New York City." He straightened his tie and struck a pose like he was already being photographed. "And then, Bam! They meet two handsome international businessmen."
He leaned closer and gave some bow to complete his sentence. "Just back from a lucrative trip to Japan."
I sighed. I already know he's crazy since we first met. I don't really know why I befriended him.
Barney's eyes flicked down to my outfit, evaluating me like a questionable investment. "Not great," he said thoughtfully. "But not bad either."
He reached out and touched my coat without asking. "Suit is still superior, Ted. Always has been. Why are you still dressing like a man who reads poetry unironically?"
Then he paused for a moment, looking at the logo on my overcoat.
"Oh," he added, impressed. "Ralph Lauren. Nice for someone like you. Honestly? That alone is enough to convince a blonde silly girl."
I rolled my eyes, but I straightened my overcoat with dignity on my face. Even though this is not from a purple label, it's expensive too!
I was wearing a dark brown double-breasted wool overcoat, the kind that rested cleanly on my shoulders and framed my posture with quiet authority. It wasn't flashy. No sharp tailoring meant to intimidate anyone important. But it fit in that subtle, dangerous way, like it had been chosen by someone who understood restraint, not someone trying to prove something.
Beneath it, a cream-colored knit sweater softened the look. September had already slipped into fall, the kind of weather that didn't sting your skin yet but reminded you it would in the night. The sweater had no pattern. No logo. Just clean lines and warmth with comfort.
It broke the seriousness of the coat, quietly reminding anyone who bothered to look twice that this was still me.
Ted Mosby.
A Romantic, thoughtful man. Like Old school and giving the educated man vibe.
My dark jeans sat comfortably at my waist, paired with a deep brown leather belt, a little understated, polished and familiar. Everything I wore spoke the same language as Barney's outfit.
Just… with fewer lies.
Barney always wore a suit.
Even his pajamas probably came with a tie and design like a suit.
Barney adjusted his own suit again, scanning the room like a shark in Armani, while I stood there beside him, unmoving and looking grounded, sipping my coffee and trying not to give Barney attention.
I took another sip of my coffee and watched people arrive. There's a few that look like they are tourists, believe me, it's clear when they look like tourists with confused faces and maybe a little excited face.
"Don't worry, Ted," Barney said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Trust me. This is gonna be Legendary!"
"You say 'legendary' all the time, Barney," I replied, staring at him with the kind of exhaustion only long-term friendship could produce. "Besides, I want to see Robin's new guy."
Barney waved a dismissive hand without even looking at me, his eyes still scanning the arrivals hall like a hawk. "Yeah, yeah. Don't worry about Robin, Ted."
That made me stop.
"Why?"
For the first time since we got here, Barney actually turned toward me without having so much 'legendary' thought. His expression shifted, just slightly. "Uh… because she's lying," he said, patting my shoulder again like this was supposed to help. "Ted, forget about Robin. She doesn't want to be with you."
"What?" I stared at him, disbelief giving way to irritation. "Why would she be lying? Why wouldn't she want to be with me?" My voice rose before I could stop it. "I'm casual enough for her!"
A few heads turned in our direction.
I didn't care.
Was Lily lying to me too?
No…..
This had Lily written all over it.
Lily….the mastermind.
…The Kraken.
…The Heartbreaker.
"Yeah, she's terrible, Ted," Barney whispered dramatically as he leaned closer. "Target. Ten o'clock."
I followed his gaze. Two chicks looking at maps and talking to each other like a tourist.
"You know what?" I said suddenly. "Yeah. Screw Robin. Let's get some girls."
Barney's grin spread instantly. "Yeah! That's the Ted I know!" Then he leaned in again and whispered, "...Dibs on the blonde."
"You get the two of them," I replied, already distracted. "I'm chasing someone else."
My eyes stayed on the woman standing alone, flipping through a tabloid with an expression that said 'please don't talk to me.'
"Ted!" Barney hissed. "I brought you here to help me!"
I didn't answer him and kept looking at the girl who didn't want any trouble right now.
I picked up one of Barney's suitcases and walked to the girl.
She stood slightly apart from the other, dressed simply and waiting for her luggage. A practical tank top beneath a light jacket zipped halfway up. Faded blue jeans that fit comfortably, neither tight nor careless. Everything about her outfit suggested she didn't want any pick up lines shooting toward her.
But I still stopped beside her.
She knew I'd entered her space, her posture shifted subtly but because I didn't say anything, she didn't either. She simply allowed the space, the way people do when they assume you're just another stranger passing through.
"…I'm sorry," I said quietly.
She startled just enough to look up. Our eyes met for a moment before she asked, "What?"
I smiled, small and unsure of her. "I just wanted to say… you're beautiful."
For a moment, she studied me. Her eyes moved from my face to my body, then back again, calculating and measuring whether I am just an ordinary person or not.
"Thanks," she said quietly, before returning to her magazine.
I didn't walk away, but I simply got closer to her.
I added softly, almost to myself, "...But you look like trouble." but it's loud enough for her to hear what i just say.
I didn't wait for a reaction. I just started to walk.
She probably thought I was like the others, another guy trying to pick her up, another cheap compliment followed by persistence. She probably expected me to keep talking, to soften the words, to convince her.
Instead, I left her with something she didn't expect.
And she didn't like that.
"I'm sorry, what?" she said sharply.
I stopped and started to grin to myself.
When I turned back, her magazine was already closed. She had stepped toward me, her expression no longer neutral, no longer polite.
"I look like trouble?" she repeated, her voice edged with irritation. "Why would you say that?"
"Because," I said, turning fully to face her now, "you're standing alone in an arrivals hall, reading a magazine you're clearly not interested in, pretending while you're waiting for your luggage alone and making a face like 'don't talk to me'."
Her brow furrowed. "Wow."
"And," I added quickly, because at this point I was already committed, "because you didn't smile when I called you beautiful. Most people do."
She stared at me for a long second, searching my face for the punchline. "…So all of that conclusion is that I'm a trouble?"
"My conclusion," I corrected gently, "…is that you're not here to be impressed."
I paused, then added with a small smile, "And yet, here I am, talking to you."
That gave her pause then she crossed her arms, not defensive, just thoughtful. "You always analyze strangers in airports?"
"No," I said. "Just the ones who look like they don't belong to anyone yet."
There it was.
A small smile and a little snort, finally breaking through her defense wall.
"Okay," she said slowly. "So if I am trouble… why are you still talking to me?"
I shrugged. "Because the guys who actually want trouble usually don't announce it."
A beat and trying to hold herself together but she can't help it.
she let out a quiet laugh, a short and surprised laugh, like it escaped before she could stop it.
"God," she muttered, shaking her head. "You're terrible at this."
I smiled. "I know."
She studied me again, more openly this time. "So what now? You insult me and disappear?" she said and waited for her luggage again.
Her eyes told me to follow her, so I did. "I was hoping," I said and standing beside her again like the first time we were talking, "you'd stop me."
She glanced at me, then back again to try not to look at me. "And if I hadn't?"
"Then I'd spend the rest of the night wondering why I didn't say something worse."
That earned a real smile.
"Okay," she said. "You can stay."
"Stay?" I repeated.
She gestured to the space beside her. "You interrupted my very serious magazine-reading ritual. You might as well commit."
"I'm Ted," I said and smiled at her before stopping. "....And before you ask, no, I'm not here to pick up girls."
She raised an eyebrow. "Airport's a weird place to lie about that."
"I'm not lying," I said. "I just wasn't planning to."
She held my gaze for a second longer, then extended her hand. I shook it.
"I'm—"
"Ted! Ted! TED!"
Before she could finish, Barney appeared out of nowhere and clapped a hand on my shoulder. He looked at me first, then at her, flashing his most unapologetic grin.
"Sorry," he said casually. "He's not single. He's meeting his fiancée in Philadelphia."
I stared at him, mouth open, then turned back to her.
"…I don't know this guy," I said quickly. Desperately!.
Her expression shifted. Guarded again like before.
She picked up her luggage and looked at me one last time.
"I think you're the trouble, Ted." she said.
And then she walked away.
I didn't chase her. Instead, I turned slowly toward Barney with pure murder in my eyes.
"....You son of a bitch!"
"Don't worry about her!" Barney said immediately, already pointing across the room. "Look! Two girls. And because I'm generous and slightly guilty about Robin, I'll let you have the brunette."
He grinned with a saintly face.
I didn't.