10A:N/ thanks for all the great reviews….I started writing this and I didn't know where Jim and Pam would take me this time. It was a heck of a journey, and their still gabbering away in the old noggin so I should have some more stuff up ASAP. Review!
Dis: Would I seriously be this dedicated if I owned the show? Well yes probably…but….I don't
"Wow," he whispered, subconsciously dropping the hand holding the test into the sink. The clinking of it as it slid to the drain reverberated around the small room, and when it was over, our silence was deafening.
"So that's a yes?" I whispered, reaching a timid hand to retrieve the test. My fingers shook as they wrapped around the cool plastic handle.
There it was. The cross that said all there was to be said. I knew then, that a picture truly is worth a thousand my mind fills with images, I forget to breathe for a minute or two.
There I am, standing in Jim's bathroom, helping two toddlers climb in and out of the bathtub. Now I'm, squatted beside the tub, washing their hair while they sing songs to me in a foreign language only they can understand. I see myself comforting a little boy, his knee red and bloody. Dry tears streak his muddy face and he sniffles as I clean the scrape. Though I try to chastise him about playing nicely with his brothers, I can't help but pull my baby into my arms and tell him what a brave little guy he is. Then suddenly it changes, and I see myself standing in front of the very same mirror, curling a teenage girl's hair as she babbles on about the party and how excited she is to dance with what's-his-face.
"Pam?" Jim whispers, and it's only then I realize that I've been crying. My face is damp and my eyes are blurry but when I come back to reality, my mind is clear as crystal.
"Jim, honey, I'm pregnant." I choke out between sobs, my whole body shuddering as the full realization hits me, straight in the gut. I've lost all thoughts of my phantom children, and now my thoughts go to New York for Art School, and about finally doing things the way I want.
"Baby, shhh Pam, its okay. Everything does gonna be okay, oh baby please don't cry…" He comforts, pulling me into his arms, stroking my hair and rubbing soothing circles on my back. I lean into his strong shoulder, and breath deep. He smells sweet and husky, the perfect blend. Ruefully I blink more tears from my eyes and force myself to separate from our embrace so that I can look him in his eyes.
His perfectly traitorous orbs that, though he tries to prevent, all his emotions are clear through. I stare at them, and he smirks at my gaze. His thumb comes up from our sides, where our arms are wrapped around one another, and strokes my check. He wipes away a tear and traces my nose with his finger tip.
"Pam, I'm in love with you." He tells me as he tweaks the end of my nose, and I smile. My eyes flutter close and I rest my face in his palm. I feel his finger stroke my check as I will myself not to cry again.
"Jim, a baby changes everything." I sigh and I feel him chuckle at my speech.
"What?" I demand, my eyes snapping open and my arms flying from their safe position around his hips. Instead they land on my own hips, so that my elbows stick out and I look officially pissed off.
"Wow, okay. Pam, calm down a little bit. I was just laughing cause," he blushes suddenly, looking down and reaching out for my hand which I suddenly feel compelled to give him. Combing his fingers with mine, he finishes his answer by saying "you smiled when you said baby."
"I did?" I question, confused and amused. It is funny. Hormones must have an early affect on pregnant woman, to make them cry one minute and to be fine the next. I'll have to check that out.
"You most definitely did." he tells me as he pulls me into his embrace once again. He holds me so that my arms are pinned against his broad chest and his free arm wraps around my lower back.
"Jim, what are we gonna do?" I whisper as he kisses my forehead, his eyes closed and his breath warm against my face.
"Well, we could always get married. I could ask you now, and we could say we found out about the baby in like, a week." He tells me, and I shake my head softly no.
"Why not?" He asks, and there's a tone of sadness in his voice. He's taken it the wrong way, immediately taking my no as an answer to his proposal.
"Jim, it's not that I don't want to marry you, because believe me, I do honey. It's just that I really don't want to be proposed to in your bathroom. And no offense but this bathmat is not terribly romantic, I'm sorry to break it too you. And by the way, did you let Dwight pick this out or something?" I tease him, rubbing my barefoot foot over the rug.
"I'm saving up to marry my dream girl, remember? When she finds the perfect time for me to propose, of course, and tells me when that is." He retorted, smirking.
"Do you understand though? I mean, I don't want this moment," I gestured around the messy bathroom, skillfully avoiding the pregnancy test on the counter, "to be where we tell our kids you asked me to marry you."
"I do, Pam. Even if I don't get to say that officially yet, I do." He leaned down and kissed my smoothly and for a moment I almost forgot that we were in his tiny bathroom, that I was recovering from a meltdown, and that I was pregnant. It was like his kiss was magic, and we were safe and fine.
But magic doesn't exist in the real world. When we separated, he smiled down at me and reached to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I tried to push my thoughts and apprehensions to the back of my mind, like a term paper I didn't feel like starting. I felt like I couldn't care anymore if I failed the course. Like I would be glad to welcome a failing grade, over having to deal with the assignment.
"Our little baby." He whispered softly as he reached down and ran his hand gently over my abdomen.
"Yup," I cooed, and I smiled at him again.
It was that moment that I realized I'd already failed one test of this course. And that was the most important grade.
And for some perverse reason, I was happy.
Genuinely happy.