I sat on the edge of the tub, my hair fallen down from my work bun, nibbling on a hangnail. My legs were crossed, but my foot tapped the air anxiously. Jim sat beside me, his back to the tub, his eyes closed and his breathing measured.

"Pam," he whispered, "your shaking the tub, baby." My breath catches, and my foot stopped automatically.

"Sorry. I'm just nervous…God…Jim…" I said, my voice growing in panic. What if I am pregnant? What are we gonna do? I panic, my heart speed increasing as the seconds tick by on Jim's kitchen timer. The test sits balanced next to it, on the counter of the sink opposite the tub.

"Pam…I promise that whatever happens, we'll do this together." He vows, pushing himself up so he's sitting next to me on the edge. The edge, I muse, the edge of our sanity.

"Thanks," I choke, leaning my head against his shoulder. "I needed to hear that right now."

"I love you Beesley, you do know that don't you?" He jokes, but his voice is still tense. I wince internally as the anxiety in his voice hit me like a load of bricks, or a box of paper.

"I had guessed as much, Halpert." I return, but I suddenly feel the need to tell him that I love him too. So I do.

"Jim, I love you." I rush, right as the timer goes off and both our eyes snap open and his fists flex. My own jaw clenches as we sit together and stare straight ahead.

A minute passes. Then two.

As the third passes, I say, taking a deep breath. "Jim,I don't wanna look alone. How about we both stand and look at the same time?" I suggest, working one of his fists undone so I can wrap me fingers with his.

"Good idea." He whispers, and I see the tension lines on his face tighten. My heart thumps so I reach up and direct his face to mine, and kiss him gently.

"Well," he says when we separate, "it's now or never." My mind fogs and for a second I can't breathe, but when he smiles at me again, all the fog dissipates and my thoughts return to me.

"Okay." I whisper. He stands and I automatically follow. We're standing side by side, facing the sink where we take that fateful step to the counter.

"Here we go." He says slowly, reaching for the little stick, and I lean into his shoulder, biting my lip as he studies it and the directions.