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snoggedTitle: Desperate Housewife
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Carter Bays and Craig Thomas own How I Met Your Mother. I don't.
Pairing: Barney/Claudia, Claudia/Stuart (Claudia’s POV)
Word Count: 616
Rating: FRT-13/PG-13; adult language, adult situations, themes of infidelity
Spoilers: Season 4
Summary: Claudia prepares for a night with Barney but things don’t go as planned.
Beta: None. Please point at any spelling/grammar mistakes.
A/N: Dedicated to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
idioticonion who was crucial to the execution of this little ficlet.
A/N2: This is set in the HIMYM!Facebook ‘verse. A brief synopsis about the events taking place before this: Claudia’s marriage isn’t going well. She caught Stuart reading dirty magazines and it led to a huge argument. Door slamming. Glass breaking. And Stuart declaring he could find himself a woman that would be hotter and nicer than she was. Claudia turned to Barney for comfort and he promised to show up her doorstep when he got back from LA. But for those already in this game, we know that Barney didn't make it back from LA.
Claudia exhaled sharply; glaring at her reflection like it was her worst enemy.
She still didn’t know what was worse. The fact that she wanted to kick her husband’s ass to the curb for being a dirty, arrogant pervert because he thought he could do better than her. Or the fact that in a few minutes, a dirty, arrogant pervert was going to walk through her front door because he thought he could do exactly her.
She closed her eyes, trying to tamp down the twisty feelings of guilt and anxiety in the pit of her stomach. They were the feelings that reminded her that instead of having a spontaneous affair with a stranger after a few dry martinis- she had planned this out. Planned to sin, planned to kiss, planned to touch, planned to…fuck. And she didn’t even care how lewd or dirty that sounded.
But could she really be blamed for it?
After all, her husband had stopped touching her, stopped holding her, stopped loving her. He had lost interest in her whimpers, her pants, and her moans. But Barney had never stopped that interest. Even after she hit the 30 mark, Barney still flirted. Still prodded her. Still tempted her. Still wanted to tap her ass. It made her feel like a twenty-something again.
She straightened her shoulders and shot her reflection a coy and saucy look. If Stuart thought he could do better, than so could she. Believing in that made the guilt dissipate just enough to get her through until she was drunk enough to forget.
And the minutes crawled by, ticking hands of the clock indicating the passing of time, but there was no knock on her door. No buzzing doorbell. No thump of footsteps. Just silence.
Five minutes.
She didn’t feel frantic or nervous. Being fashionably late to an affair was totally something Barney Stinson would do.
Instead, she straightened the magazines on the coffee table and inspected her home. She spotted a wedding photo on the bookshelf and was quick to turn it around. Stu needed to be blocked from her memory.
Ten minutes.
She perched herself on the edge of the sofa, flipping on the remote and scanning the cable channels for something to distract her. It all seemed like utter crap. Mindless dribble to keep the masses entertained. And for some reason, she didn’t feel like she fit in with the normal masses right now. All she could think about was blond hair, blue eyes, ripped muscles riding her into a hedonistic oblivion.
These were not the normal thoughts of a married woman. Unless, she was a desperate housewife. She’d make a great desperate housewife. And she’d probably give Eva Longora a run for her money.
Thirty minutes.
She couldn’t remember if they had even set a time for him to come over. He said he was going to call when he got back in from LA but she couldn’t remember if his plane was landing at 10:00…11:00…
BRRRINNNGGG!
Picking up the phone is instinctive. Dropping it moments later is less instinctive. Lily’s voice is cracked and garbled but she picked up on the important stuff. Barney’s in a coma. Drug-induced. Don’t know when he’s waking up.
Forty-five minutes
She knows it’s a sign. A sign that she shouldn’t be sleeping with another man. A sign that she should go and find Stu instead of going to the divorce lawyers tomorrow.
She can’t help but silently pray that when Barney wakes up; he’ll get on a plane, and bring her a vodka cranberry and a smile.
But, she’s also fucked up enough to think that he’s worth waiting for. Even if it’s only for one night.
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Carter Bays and Craig Thomas own How I Met Your Mother. I don't.
Pairing: Barney/Claudia, Claudia/Stuart (Claudia’s POV)
Word Count: 616
Rating: FRT-13/PG-13; adult language, adult situations, themes of infidelity
Spoilers: Season 4
Summary: Claudia prepares for a night with Barney but things don’t go as planned.
Beta: None. Please point at any spelling/grammar mistakes.
A/N: Dedicated to
idioticonion who was crucial to the execution of this little ficlet. A/N2: This is set in the HIMYM!Facebook ‘verse. A brief synopsis about the events taking place before this: Claudia’s marriage isn’t going well. She caught Stuart reading dirty magazines and it led to a huge argument. Door slamming. Glass breaking. And Stuart declaring he could find himself a woman that would be hotter and nicer than she was. Claudia turned to Barney for comfort and he promised to show up her doorstep when he got back from LA. But for those already in this game, we know that Barney didn't make it back from LA.
Claudia exhaled sharply; glaring at her reflection like it was her worst enemy.
She still didn’t know what was worse. The fact that she wanted to kick her husband’s ass to the curb for being a dirty, arrogant pervert because he thought he could do better than her. Or the fact that in a few minutes, a dirty, arrogant pervert was going to walk through her front door because he thought he could do exactly her.
She closed her eyes, trying to tamp down the twisty feelings of guilt and anxiety in the pit of her stomach. They were the feelings that reminded her that instead of having a spontaneous affair with a stranger after a few dry martinis- she had planned this out. Planned to sin, planned to kiss, planned to touch, planned to…fuck. And she didn’t even care how lewd or dirty that sounded.
But could she really be blamed for it?
After all, her husband had stopped touching her, stopped holding her, stopped loving her. He had lost interest in her whimpers, her pants, and her moans. But Barney had never stopped that interest. Even after she hit the 30 mark, Barney still flirted. Still prodded her. Still tempted her. Still wanted to tap her ass. It made her feel like a twenty-something again.
She straightened her shoulders and shot her reflection a coy and saucy look. If Stuart thought he could do better, than so could she. Believing in that made the guilt dissipate just enough to get her through until she was drunk enough to forget.
And the minutes crawled by, ticking hands of the clock indicating the passing of time, but there was no knock on her door. No buzzing doorbell. No thump of footsteps. Just silence.
Five minutes.
She didn’t feel frantic or nervous. Being fashionably late to an affair was totally something Barney Stinson would do.
Instead, she straightened the magazines on the coffee table and inspected her home. She spotted a wedding photo on the bookshelf and was quick to turn it around. Stu needed to be blocked from her memory.
Ten minutes.
She perched herself on the edge of the sofa, flipping on the remote and scanning the cable channels for something to distract her. It all seemed like utter crap. Mindless dribble to keep the masses entertained. And for some reason, she didn’t feel like she fit in with the normal masses right now. All she could think about was blond hair, blue eyes, ripped muscles riding her into a hedonistic oblivion.
These were not the normal thoughts of a married woman. Unless, she was a desperate housewife. She’d make a great desperate housewife. And she’d probably give Eva Longora a run for her money.
Thirty minutes.
She couldn’t remember if they had even set a time for him to come over. He said he was going to call when he got back in from LA but she couldn’t remember if his plane was landing at 10:00…11:00…
BRRRINNNGGG!
Picking up the phone is instinctive. Dropping it moments later is less instinctive. Lily’s voice is cracked and garbled but she picked up on the important stuff. Barney’s in a coma. Drug-induced. Don’t know when he’s waking up.
Forty-five minutes
She knows it’s a sign. A sign that she shouldn’t be sleeping with another man. A sign that she should go and find Stu instead of going to the divorce lawyers tomorrow.
She can’t help but silently pray that when Barney wakes up; he’ll get on a plane, and bring her a vodka cranberry and a smile.
But, she’s also fucked up enough to think that he’s worth waiting for. Even if it’s only for one night.