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3rd POV
A party was supposed to be loud.
Music blasting through the room, bodies swaying nonstop all night long with people losing themselves in the noise, the lights, the moment.
Beer spilled carelessly onto the floor.
Laughter colliding, strangers brushing shoulders, men and women meeting, flirting, hooking up despite knowing nothing about each other five minutes ago.
Drunk girls.
Men watching them like predators disguised as charm.
That was what a party was supposed to be.
Bad decisions made under dim lights.
Mistakes you blamed on alcohol the next morning.
That was the whole point.
And yet!.....here Barney Stinson was, sitting on a couch between two men instead of women, already regretting every single choice that had led him to this moment.
{So, here we are, kids. Barney and I hit the town of Philadelphia. Our first stop? Sascha's party.} — Old Ted
Barney glanced to his left.
A Japanese man sat beside him, massive enough that his body practically swallowed half of Sascha's couch. His round stomach and thick arms made him look like someone who might be preparing for a future career in sumo wrestling or had simply embraced a very relaxed lifestyle. Either way, the man looked perfectly comfortable, eyes fixed on the television.
Barney glanced to his right.
Ted sat there quietly, eyes on the TV as well. Next to Ted was a tall Black man built like a professional basketball player, dressed in a training jacket and matching track pants, sitting back with the calm posture of someone who had absolutely no problem with how this night was unfolding.
They were all sitting together.
Watching a movie, maybe an action movie or something.
At supposed to be a party!.
Barney blinked slowly, trying to process this.
He and Ted genuinely didn't know whether this was how people in Philadelphia defined a party or if Sascha was simply… different.
Either way, this was, by all known party standards, painfully boring.
This wasn't a party.
This was a group hangout that had accidentally been labeled a party!
Barney couldn't understand it, especially after seeing Sascha earlier in the airport. She was hot. Confident and some kind of magnetic. Even Ted is hitting on her, but…
'Why would a hot girl throw a lame party?'
That question echoed in his mind like an unsolved mystery.
He looked again at the Japanese man beside him, who seemed completely at peace with the situation, eyes glued to the screen, totally immersed in the movie.
Barney frowned.
NO!
He refused to call this a party.
"So," Barney tried, leaning slightly closer, lowering his voice, "you're Sascha's friend?" He wanted to see if there's anything interesting about him.
The man didn't take his eyes off the TV.
"You know it," he replied calmly.
That was it.
Conversation over.
Fantastic!
Sascha herself was still upstairs.
Yes, upstairs, because while they were all currently sitting in the basement, it was obvious she had transformed the space into something far more intentional. This wasn't a dusty storage room filled with cobwebs and forgotten boxes. It felt like a proper living area, warm lighting, decorated walls, carefully arranged shelves.
Ted's eyes wandered, taking everything in.
There were vintage model cars displayed neatly on a table in front of him. Books lined the walls. A collection of glasses with each different and each of them carefully placed, reflected the soft light of the room.
Maybe all of them belonged to Sascha's grandfather, but it's also possible that they belong to Sascha. Maybe Sascha likes vintage?
Footsteps echoed softly from the stairs.
"Hey, hey, guys," Sascha whispered as she appeared, already motioning for them to lower their voices. "Please keep it down. You'll wake my grandpa."
She immediately grabbed the remote and turned the TV volume down even further, despite the fact that it was already barely audible.
Barney frowned internally.
'How could anyone even hear this?'
'Was her grandfather some kind of human sonar?'
Sascha was holding something in her hands now, and Barney felt a spark of hope. Maybe…just maybe, it was beer!. Maybe alcohol could at least numb the disappointment in him.
"Who wants hard lemonade?" Sascha announced cheerfully.
….And Barney's hope shattered instantly.
Still, Sascha looked genuinely happy as she stood there, and neither Ted nor Barney had the heart to complain. Disappointed, yes, but keeping polite does not hurt anybody.
Sascha handed out the bottles one by one, smiling brightly as she did.
Barney accepted his, staring at it like it had personally betrayed him.
Yep.
Definitely not a party.
"Sascha, where's the bathroom?" Ted asked, lifting his bottle slightly as he looked at her. Beside him, Barney misunderstood the gesture entirely. He raised his own bottle high and shouted, "PHILLY!"
Sascha shot him a sharp look before quickly raising a finger to her lips.
"Shhh."
She turned back to Ted, lowering her voice. "…Follow me, Ted."
"Okay," Ted replied, standing up without hesitation.
As Ted left the couch, Barney immediately sprawled into the newly available space, leaning back comfortably while taking a sip of his hard lemonade. He then looked at the Japanese man beside him again, "So, what's your name?"
Upstairs, Sascha led Ted quietly down the hallway, each step careful, measured. Her grandfather had just fallen asleep, and the last thing she wanted was to wake him. The house felt different up here, quieter, heavier, as if every sound carried might become a trap to another yell from someone.
When they reached the bathroom door, Sascha stopped. She turned to Ted, catching him watching her.
"…Is it true?" she asked softly, curiosity clear in her eyes.
Ted tilted his head slightly. "Hmm?"
Still wearing her airport police jacket, maybe it's become her mantle of braveness, Sascha held his gaze. "You said my name was beautiful. Is that true?"
Ted nodded, a gentle smile forming on his lips.
"Yeah. It is."
"In Germany," he continued, stepping a little closer, "Sascha is a nickname for Alexandra. It comes from the Greek Alexandros which means Defender of Mankind."
He reached up carefully, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear.
"It's beautiful," he said softly. "And brave."
Sascha flushed instantly.
That jacket, her mantle of braveness, suddenly felt a little thinner.
She was a woman, after all. And praise, when sincere, always found its way in.
"...Really?" she whispered, still looking straight into his eyes.
There was a pause. A quiet moment hanging between them. Something pulling them together, maybe it's because of a moment, or maybe it's just because of the atmosphere.
But then, like universe spat Ted in the face,
*Fluuussshhh.
The bathroom door swung open.
Sascha's grandfather stepped out, glaring at the two of them like a man who had seen far too much of the world and trusted absolutely no one. His eyes locked onto Ted.
"No sex in the bathroom!" he barked, pointing an accusing finger. "Do you hear me?!"
Ted instantly raised both hands. "Sir, I—"
"Grandpa!" Sascha groaned, stomping her foot before grabbing her grandfather's arm. "Stop it!"
"He's a crocodile, Sascha!" her grandfather muttered loudly as she tried to pull him away. "Don't fall for his crocodile tears!"
Ted let out a quiet chuckle, unable to help himself.
Sascha shot Ted an apologetic look with half embarrassed and half amused before finally guiding her grandfather back toward his room.
The old man snorted one last time, throwing Ted a suspicious glare before disappearing down the hallway.
Ted shook his head, still smiling, and stepped into the bathroom. A few minutes later, after he was done with his business, he came back out into the hallway.
Sascha wasn't there. She was probably still in her grandfather's room or already back downstairs.
Ted didn't head to the basement right away.
Instead, he stepped outside.
The cold Philadelphia night greeted him immediately. Ted leaned slightly against the front of the house and lit a cigarette, watching the smoke curl lazily into the air. The street was quiet with no blasting music, no crowds spilling onto the sidewalk. Just dim streetlights, distant traffic, and the low hum of a city slowly settling into sleep.
He took a slow drag, exhaled, and let the stillness wash over him. After a moment, he pulled out his phone and dialed Marshall again.
"Hey, Marshall," Ted said quietly. "Yeah…yeah, I'm in the city right now. You can come here." He gave him Sascha's address, his voice casual, almost too casual.
After hanging up, Ted slipped the phone back into his pocket and stayed where he was, trying to finish his cigarette, enjoying the night like it had nothing to ask from him.
"Ted?"
Sascha stepped out of the house, closing the door softly behind her. She spotted him standing there, calm, distant, cigarette glowing faintly between his fingers.
"You don't want to come back in?" she asked as she walked closer.
Ted lifted the cigarette slightly, as if it explained everything.
"…This is nice," he said. "You know, in New York, at this hour, the streets are still buzzing like the night never wants to end."
Sascha folded her arms and took a breath. "Yeah. I know." She studied him for a second, then tilted her head. "So why come to Philly, Ted? Honestly….with a backpack full of condoms?" She let out a small chuckle, but curiosity lingered beneath it. "Were you planning some kind of rave party or something?"
Ted groaned softly and shook his head. "I already told you, that's Barney's luggage," he said. Then, more seriously, meeting her eyes, "…I don't need a power bar to have great sex with women."
Sascha swallowed, laughing awkwardly as she looked away, heat creeping into her cheeks.
Ted smiled at her. He took one last drag from his cigarette, flicked it away, and before she fully registered the moment, he stepped closer and kissed her.
The shock hit first.
Sascha's hand moved on instinct, snapping across his face with a sharp slap. It was pure reflex.
Ted froze for a second…then smirked.
He looked at her, really looked at her, eyes steady, unreadable, pulling her in without touching her at all. Sascha felt herself falter.
This time, Ted didn't move.
She did.
Sascha grabbed him, pulled him back in, kissing him harder, pushing him against the wall. Her arms wrapped around him tightly, her control unraveling as she pressed closer. She didn't care about the smell of cigarettes on his lips anymore. Heat drowned out reason, desire overtaking hesitation.
"Calling me beautiful…" she whispered breathlessly as she broke the kiss, her face flushed, eyes burning. "That's not fair."
Seeing that smirk again was enough.
She kissed him once more, deeper this time, already knowing like her grandfather had warned her before.
He was a crocodile.
….And she had already chosen to swim.
Of course, there was always something that stopped Ted from having fun.
"TED!"
Barney burst out of Sascha's house, followed closely by the two guys from the 'party'. The sudden interruption made Sascha instantly let go of Ted. She quickly fixed her hair, eyes dropping to the ground as embarrassment rushed in.
"I cannot believe you stole my dibs again!" Barney shouted, glaring at Ted like this was a personal betrayal of the highest order.
Ted immediately raised his hands in surrender. "She kissed me!" he said, shamelessly pointing at Sascha, conveniently ignoring the fact that he had very clearly kissed her first.
Sascha froze for a second, before looking at Ted's face who was clearly messing with her.
Then she slapped Ted's arm hard, embarrassed by the accusation which she never did!
"Hey!" Ted laughed, completely unapologetic.
"You liar!" Sascha snapped, shooting him a furious glare while Ted only chuckled, enjoying himself far too much.
"Sascha, you wild," the Black guy laughed openly, pointing between them. "We all saw that!"
Sascha's face burned. "Shut up!" she yelled, mortified.
She didn't wait for another word. Turning on her heel, Sascha rushed back inside the house, disappearing through the door.
Barney stood there, staring at Ted in absolute disbelief, his mouth slightly open as if he was trying to process the injustice of the universe.
Ted, on the other hand, looked completely unbothered.
He shrugged casually. "So… what's up?" he asked with a smile on his face. "The movie's over?"