Here we are. Where: Who: Red. Closed What: Contemplation/complication When: Today Where: Various. Rating: PG+
The fact was...
The fact was, she never really stopped thinking about Barney. Not really. He stayed in her head, even when (especially when) she tried forcing him out. Don't think about him don't think about him don't -- I'm thinking about him. Counterproductive, what it was, looking up into the face of another man and somehow shockingly disappointed when it wasn't those familiar blue eyes and sandy hair beneath her shaking hands. Counterproductive sex, when all it made her do was fixate on the person she tried so hard to ignore.
Red's shoulder stopped being tender about two weeks after the healing, which she realized when looking down at her phone and suddenly noticing that she didn't have his number. In fact, her contact list looked something like:
Chip (Cabbie) Emergency Take-out #Bal #Min #PMT
She snapped the mobile shut and swore on her life it wasn't depressing.
At least it wasn't until the dreams started, and then she cursed her subconscious as well. Barney played small roles at first; a cameo, a snapshot, the distorted reflection of him in a passing mirror before Red went back to her snowy deserts wearing all the wrong clothes. It got ridiculous when he began assuming the part of the leading man, wearing some manner of ridiculous costume or a tie that didn't match his suit. Sometimes, he'd look at her and say something that didn't make sense. Like:
"I wish that hat fit you." "It's the elephants that don't count." "You're not blonde anymore." (And she'd wake up and touch her hair to reassure herself that she wasn't.)
Dreams were strange. Ri di cu lous.
Even after weeks of not seeing him, Barney managed to work his way like a needle under her skin -- unwanted and bitterly sharp. Casual sex wasn't the same because of him -- not because he was particularly good, but because no one else could bring that sickening connection that truly immersed her in the experience. Barney had ruined her and now she cursed him for it, sitting at a nameless bar and nursing her drink while looking for answers in its gold depths.
Because the fact neither wanted to face was that she couldn't function without him.