Work Text:
Kids, you’re probably wondering what we were all doing the night of the zombie apocalypse. Obviously it worked out okay, since it wasn’t until later that I met your mother, but it was pretty hit-or-miss there for a while and a lot of things did change that night even if one of them wasn’t the bloody reign of the undead.
Your Uncle Barney was at the bar when it started, and he had the bad luck to be flirting with a woman who had been infected earlier that night. I think he said her name was Traci and she was a C cup and drank a white wine spritzer before she turned into a zombie and it took him a good five minutes to realize something weird had happened. He couldn’t remember if she’d had anything more interesting to say before she changed and all that came out of her mouth was, “Braaaaains.” He said that he was all for giving head, really, under the right circumstances, and of course he was awesome at it, but this was going too far even for an “OH” face.
And your Uncle Marshall, well, he got stuck at the office. Maybe half an hour after news of the undead shambling through Times Square hit the banking industry, GNB was trying to ensure that legally they could deny the newly risen zombies access to their accounts. After all, they weren’t exactly alive (no banking privileges!) and not exactly dead (no estates to survivors!), and there had to be some kind of profitable loophole there. Marshall said later that he didn’t even pay any attention to the riots on the street below; he was too busy trying to figure out if zombies should be considered a protected class for discrimination purposes.
Marshall did at least call Lily to make sure that she was okay, and she was – when she’d nearly been hit in the eye with a piece of flung brain matter (“It was gross! I thought someone was flinging poo!”), she’d ducked into the nearest safe haven, which for her happened to be Robin’s news studio.
You might remember that your Aunt Robin had recently gotten her first serious newswoman job, a gig as an evening anchor for that big cable news network. So you probably don’t have to ask what she was doing the night of the zombie apocalypse – she was getting ready to report on it. And lucky for her, she got the behind-the-desk spot on this one; there had already been an unfortunate incident with an on-the-scene reporter who had been bitten and turned, and then eaten the cameraman before turning on the camera and choking on the tripod.
It was right around the time that Lily ran in that the situation got an official upgrade from “invasion” to “apocalypse.” This was the official word from the government, though apparently the threat level chart didn’t go up that high anyway. But Robin managed to remain calm and collected as she spoke into a camera that no longer seemed to be manned by anyone: “Next up at eleven, the latest updates on the zombie apocalypse. Stay tuned.”
Lily was pretty unimpressed by Robin’s calm, especially since the only way she’d made it past security up to the news room in the first place was that security were now zombies. They’d been distracted by something shiny and stopped to gnaw on the bleach blonde head of the morning show weathergirl. Lily barred the door behind her using a broken-off tripod, and was surprised to find that Robin was the only one left in the newsroom. Everyone else had fled for their lives before the last commercial break.
Now kids, they say that fearing for your life can make you do some crazy things. Not that I’m saying it was crazy, what Robin and Lily got up to next, but it definitely flew right past that whole ‘there’s a time and a place for everything’ rule. Turns out that both of them had been harboring a crush on the other and had been waiting for the right moment – Lily starting to wiggle the idea of a threesome into Marshall’s subconscious, and Robin figuring someday they’d just be drunk enough.
So being pretty sure they were going to be eaten by zombies any minute, they both threw caution to the wind and started making out right there on the news desk, underneath fantastic lighting and a cartoon backdrop of the New York skyline.
You’re probably wondering what I was doing during all this. Well, right at that moment, I was watching two of my best friends French kiss on national television. Turns out you don’t really need a cameraman running the things now, and before the producer had dashed off to save himself from encroaching undead, he’d figured that they may as well stay on air as long as they could.
Considering the chaos outside, I’d decided that the safest place to be was probably my apartment. Barney had agreed with me, so after he brushed off the zombie he’d been hitting on downstairs, he came up and joined me in front of the television.
“Best. Apocalypse. Ever.” He reached for some popcorn and sat with his eyes glued to the television screen.
“You think we should call Marshall?” I asked him as Lily took off her top.
“Nah,” said Barney. “He doesn’t have a television in his office. Oh! DEAR GOD.” He rose to his feet, as if realizing something very important. “What is wrong with you! TIVO this, man!”
The zombies, as you know, were a temporary thing, but Lily and Robin were not. As for Marshall, he was just glad we’d thought to tape it.
So there you have it, kids. The next time you see Robin or Lily turn to the other and say “Braaaaains,” you know that your Uncle Marshall’s going to be sleeping on our couch that night.