"Wake up, sleepyhead!"

Pam opened her eyes. Jim was standing over her with a big smile on his face. "We have a busy day today," he said as he pulled the covers off of her.

"No!" she protested, grabbing the blanket and throwing it over her head. "Leave me alone. I was up half the night with heartburn, and the baby was kicking the crap out of me."

Jim gently put a hand on her big stomach and gave it a pat. "That's my boy," he said.

"Shut it," she growled.

"No seriously, Pam, it's already ten o' clock. You have to be at the beet farm at noon for your shower."

"Argh!" She grimaced. "Who the hell wants to have their baby shower at a beet farm? This just has disaster written all over it."

Jim laughed and pulled on her arm to encourage her to get out of bed. "Beets me!" he said, and she groaned and threw a pillow at him. "Come on, it won't be that bad." She glared at him and reluctantly got up.

"Easy for you to say. You get to go out with the guys while I am stuck opening presents and 'ooh-ing' and 'ah-ing' over every stupid thing."

"Wait a second, that's not fair. I am going out with Michael, Dwight, Andy and Kevin. Does that sound like a good time to you? Really?" He raised his eyebrows and gave her a stern look.

"Okay, you have a point. Now leave me alone so I can get dressed."

An hour and a half later they were in the car headed to Schrute Farm. Pam was quiet, and just staring out the window with a solemn expression on her face.

"You know," Jim began, "it was nice of Angela to host this shower for you. Who would have thought you guys would end up such good friends?"

Pam just grunted and continued to look out the window. After a few more minutes of silence she finally spoke. "What if I go into labor and I'm out in the middle of nowhere?"

"You're not due for another three weeks. The chances of that happening are pretty slim," he replied.

"Slim, but not out of the question. Women have babies three weeks early all the time," she argued.

"Pam, you weren't even dilated the last time you went to the doctor. There's no way you'll go early," Jim said, and then added quietly, "As much as you want to."

"Oh, you try walking around with your crotch hurting and your back hurting and weighing a thousand pounds and don't even get me started on the hemorrhoids..."

"Yeah," he interrupted. "Let's... not." He glanced over her and couldn't resist. "But you're still cute even when you're talking about hemorrhoids."

She shot him an evil look and went back to looking out the window. Jim sighed silently to himself. Yes, Pam hadn't exactly been the most pleasant person to be around these last few weeks, but he understood that she was extremely uncomfortable and was just anxious for the pregnancy to be over. And he was too. He was so looking forward to meeting his son for the first time that he could barely stand it. Oh sure, it was going to be a huge adjustment for them, but he was as prepared as he possibly could be, and he was also prepared to be totally unprepared.

As they pulled into the long driveway leading to Dwight and Angela's nine bedroom farmhouse (which had recently been renovated to add a bathroom, at Angela's insistence), Jim reached over and took Pam's hand. "You know, I could skip the whole going out with the guys thing and stay with you to open the presents, if you want."

She smiled at him and squeezed his hand. "Thanks, but that's okay. If it's annoying for me it would be torture for you, and you've been through enough with me being so horrible lately."

He put the car in park and leaned over to kiss her. He was relieved, because she was right; it would be torture. He would have done it, but he would have hated every second of it.

"Hey look, balloons!" he said as they got out of the car. "She really pulled out all the stops."

"Well, she is the head of the party planning committee," Pam responded. "And all the balloons are blue, so they fall under the category of non-whorish. How sweet."

They held hands as they walked up to the door. Angela greeted them, holding one of her nine-month-old twin boys in her arms.

"Hi Angela," Pam said as warmly as she could. "Is this DJ or Kurt?" She held a hand out to the baby and smiled.

"It's Kurt, obviously," Angela answered harshly. "DJ has a cowlick on the left side. Kurt's is on the right." She rolled her eyes and motioned for Pam to come in. "Jim, Dwight is waiting for you at the barn." She tried to slam the door in Jim's face, but he held it open.

"Um, okay, can I just say bye to Pam?" he said.

"Whatever. The guests are in the parlor."

Jim and Pam grinned at each other as she stormed off. He hugged her close and whispered, "Don't forget, you can always fake labor pains if you want to leave early."

"Oooh, good idea! Speaking of which, why don't you leave the keys so I can drive myself home in case you don't get back early enough."

"But what if I want to escape myself?" he asked with a frown.

"You'll probably be drinking anyway. Dwight can drive you home."

"I'm hardly going to get hammered, Pam," he chuckled.

"You never know. Look who you're going with. You may need to."

They both laughed and he gave her the keys and a hug. "Good luck, Beesly," he said.

"Same to you," she replied, and he waved as he set off down the dirt road to the barn. Pam sighed and closed the door, bracing herself as she walked toward the parlor and her beet farm baby shower.