Chapter 13 — Drumroll, Please (Magic Nights & Cake Batter Futures)
Ted Mosby believed weddings were about destiny.
Barney Stinson believed weddings were about opportunity.
And Ivar Scherbatsky? He believed weddings were about timing — and sometimes, timing tasted like buttercream.
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The Reception Afterglow
The band struck up a slow tune. Couples drifted onto the dance floor, champagne bubbling in flutes, the bride glowing under fairy lights.
Ted leaned against the bar, sighing. "Weddings are supposed to be magic. Why don't I ever get the magic?"
Barney, juggling two bridesmaids who were already losing interest, hissed: "Because you think too much. Magic happens when you stop caring."
Across the room, Ivar didn't look like he was thinking at all. He was laughing with Victoria, the baker, as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of them.
Robin noticed first. She nudged Ted. "Looks like my brother found your magic."
Ted followed her gaze. His heart sank.
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A Conversation Worth More Than Cake
Victoria set down her champagne, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I'm usually in the kitchen at weddings, not on the dance floor."
"Your loss," Ivar said. "You miss the drama."
"I see the drama," she said. "From behind trays of canapés. Trust me, cake catches secrets."
"Cake catches secrets?" Ivar repeated, amused.
She smiled. "Every bride who's doubting takes the smallest slice. Every groom who's guilty eats two."
Ivar leaned in, green eyes curious. "And what does it mean if someone goes back for a third?"
"That they're greedy."
He grinned. "Then I'm guilty."
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The Dance
The band shifted into a softer number. Ivar stood, extending his hand.
"One dance. So I can say I've had the best cake and the best partner tonight."
Victoria hesitated — then slipped her hand into his.
They moved together easily, Ivar guiding with quiet confidence. Around them, the reception blurred: Ted sulking, Robin smirking, Barney pouting like a child who'd lost his toy.
Marshall whispered to Lily, "Look at that. He's like James Bond if Bond baked cookies."
Lily grinned. "I ship it."
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The Drumroll
Later, in the quiet corner of the garden, fairy lights glowing overhead, Victoria laughed at one of Ivar's stories about surviving a Canadian blizzard.
"You're insane," she said. "Who spends a year in the wilderness for fun?"
"Me," Ivar said. "Because sometimes the world makes more sense when you strip it down to nothing. You learn what's worth keeping."
She tilted her head. "And what did you keep?"
"You," he said simply, leaning in.
The kiss landed soft but sure — the kind that didn't need fireworks, because the drumroll was inside their ribs.
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Watching from Afar
Back inside, Ted stared out the window at them. Robin joined him, arms crossed.
"You okay?" she asked.
Ted forced a smile. "Sure. It's… fine. It's not like I thought weddings were magical or anything."
Robin studied him. "You'll get your moment, Ted. But sometimes it's not your turn."
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Chapter Closing Beat
The night ended with Ivar walking Victoria to the curb, hailing her a cab, promising they'd see each other again.
When the door shut and the cab pulled away, Ivar slipped his hands into his pockets, looking up at the city sky.
He wasn't a man who believed in fate. But tonight, with frosting on his sleeve and someone worth calling tomorrow, he let himself believe in timing.