"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.

Pam held up the knitted sweater that Phyllis had given her.

There was a chorus of "aaaws" as she made her obligatory remark about how cute it was and then moved on to the next gift.

This one was from Jan and Michael.

"It's a breast pump," Jan said, as if it was not obvious.

"Thanks," Pam replied, "I needed one."

"Oh my God, Pam," Kelly chimed in, "You totally shouldn't bother with breastfeeding. I tried it for like a week and it sucked so I switched to formula but my boobs are flat now and..."

"Well, I'm going to give it a try anyway," Pam said, cutting her off. Then she added cheerfully, "I mean, it's the best thing for the baby."

"Well, my baby is just fine, thank you very much!" snapped Kelly, and she got up and stormed out of the room.

"Okay. Moving on," Pam said, picking up the next gift and unwrapping it. She was confused. "A bottle of brandy?"

"That's from me," Meredith said. "You can put some on the baby's gums when he's teething."

Pam stared at her and then said, "Okay, moving on... again." She glanced at the grandfather clock ("It's a Schrute family heirloom, and it's hideous," Angela had said) and wondered what Jim was up to at that moment. Whatever it was, it certainly couldn't be worse than this.

Jim, of course, was currently thinking the same thing about her. After enduring a horrific ride in the backseat of Dwight's car (since Michael had called shotgun), he was then subjected to the world's worse round of golf with the world's worst golfers. Not only did Michael, Andy and Dwight not know how to keep score, but Michael was a cheater and Dwight would examine each hole for snakes before they played it. And combining Andy's rage issues with golf clubs was never a good idea. After they had to go back to the clubhouse for the first aid kit, Jim made the executive decision to end the golf and suggested they go grab a bite to eat.

Which, of course, turned out to be another mistake. Michael wanted to go to Hooters, because, after all, it was a bachelor party. When Jim corrected him and said it wasn't a bachelor party, since he was already married, Michael responded by saying he was a still "bachelor from fatherhood" for a few more weeks, whatever that meant.

So now Jim was sitting in Hooters, with a bunch of waitresses singing "Happy Birthday" to him like that time he had come here with Michael a few years ago when, coincidentally, it also was not his birthday. As the waitresses dispersed their own server asked if they needed anything. Jim ordered a beer. Then after Andy stood up and went into an impromptu one-man a cappella of "The Longest Time" by Billy Joel because Michael had mentioned it was his favorite song, and Dwight ran to his car to get his recorder, he ordered another beer.

He took a minute to step away and call to check up on Pam. Her phone rang a few times before she answered.

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked.

"As well as can be expected," she answered. "I had to break up a fight between Kelly and Angela though."

He laughed. "What now?"

"Oh, it started with there being bacon in the potato salad and took off from there. You don't want to know."

"You're right, I don't. And you don't want to know why Andy has a black eye."

Pam giggled. "Did you punch him or something?"

"I wish," he said. "Hey listen, I think I am going to have Dwight drop me off after all. It's been a long day. Do you mind driving home?"

"Not at all," she replied. "I'm probably going to head home soon anyway, after I help Kelly get the glue out of her hair." She paused. "She's having a tough day."

"Ah, okay. I'll see you at home later then."

After he had said goodbye and hung up, Jim went back to their table where he was informed that the next stop was going to be a local karaoke bar, even though it was only late afternoon and there would likely be no one there. After they arrived and Dwight and Andy started their "karaoke-off," Jim decided he needed something with a little more kick than just beer, so he ordered a white russian. That was when Michael began giving him helpful parenting advice, like how to pretend that you don't smell it when the baby poops, and how sometimes the baby likes it when he puts his carseat on the washing machine during the spin cycle because that's where he was probably conceived. Yes, a rum and coke would be a good idea, Jim thought.

At some point he checked his watch and was surprised at how late it was, and vaguely thought that Pam must be home by now. But that's when he was challenged by Andy to a drinking game, and he was already feeling pretty drunk so he figured, what's a couple more?

A half hour later he was standing up at the karaoke machine with Kevin doing a mean duet of "Almost Paradise."

-
Pam kept going to the window looking out for Dwight's car. She had called Jim and he didn't answer, so she was trying not to worry. But she was feeling very anxious, and was starting to get annoyed that he was still out when she had been home for quite a while now.

At eight o' clock she went to the bathroom, and that's when it happened. As she was standing at the sink washing her hands she felt something warm and wet trickling down her leg. She stared at herself in the mirror, and then muttered, "Oh, shit." Her water had broken.

After she called him for the seventh time she realized that he wasn't going to pick up, so she dialed Michael's number instead.

"Michael!" she shouted when he answered.

"Pamalama...mama, wazzup?"

Ignoring his greeting, she said desperately, "Michael, is Jim still with you?"

"Yessshhh," he replied, and then giggled.  She heard a muffled sound, some more giggling, and then the phone went dead.

Frustrated, she threw the phone across the room, hitting the front door just seconds before it opened, revealing Jim, with his arm draped over Dwight's neck.

"Beeeeeesly!" he slurred.  "I sure was missing you!"  He let go of Dwight and tried to approach Pam, but stumbled and landed on the floor.

"Oh my God, Dwight, he's drunk!"

"Very observant of you," replied Dwight sarcastically.

Jim was now on his back on the floor, giggling like a little girl.

"No, no, no, you don't understand.  I have to get to the hospital.  My water broke, and I'm starting to have contractions!" 

"What?"  Dwight was alarmed.  "Um... quick, sit down!  I'll go boil some water.  Question:  Where do you keep your salad tongs?"

"What the hell...  Dwight, listen to me.  I need you to take me to the hospital.  Do you understand?"  He nodded.  She turned to Jim.  "Jim, get up.  Now!"

He pulled himself to his knees, still laughing.  "Hey Pam, you'll never guess what happened..."

"Oh, I think I probably could," she replied.  "Did you hear what I just told Dwight?  I am in labor.  Like, right now."

"What?  No, you can't be.  Wait, is this a dream?  I'm having one of those funky dreams, right, and soon Dwight's going to turn into a walrus or something and then I'm going to..."

He was stopped in mid-sentence by Dwight, who had slapped him across the face - a little too eagerly.  "My God, man.  Are you deaf?  Your wife is in labor.  Get a hold of yourself."

Jim looked stunned, and then somehow got to his feet.  "Really?"

"Really," Pam repeated.  Then she said to Dwight, "Where is Michael?  He said he was with you when I called."

"Oh," Dwight replied, casting his eyes downward.  "See, Michael is in the car.  I was going to drop him off after Jim.  He's just as bad."  He paused.  "Andy too."

"What?  What about Kevin?  Wasn't he with you?"  She was exasperated now.

"Oh, he was fine."

"So why couldn't he have driven any of these drunks home then?"

"Because I was the designated driver, so it was my duty to..."

"Nevermind," she snapped.  "Just... get Jim back in your car.  My bag is right there next to the couch, if you wouldn't mind."

"You do realize that my car isn't exactly, um, spacious?" he said, looking over her expanded girth.  She was about to reply when she felt a contraction come on, sharper and more forceful than the previous ones.  She swore out loud as she clutched her belly.

"Wait, are you okay?"  Jim asked.  "Because you seem a little tense."

She grabbed his shirt and growled into his ear, "I am going to kill you."

-
A few minutes later Jim was shoved into the back of Dwight's car with Andy and Michael, which was a very tight squeeze, but all three were too drunk to notice.  Andy, in fact, had passed out entirely, but Michael was still very much alert.

"What's going on?" he asked enthusiastically, like a child.

"Pam's in labor.  We're taking her to the hospital," Dwight answered, as Pam had another contraction and yelled out.

"Uh-oh," Michael said, and then looked at Jim.  "Jim's pretty wasted."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious!" Jim screamed at him.

At that, Andy opened his eyes, shouted, "Can you all just shut the hell up?" and then seemed to go back to sleep.

Pam silently wondered when she had been transplanted into an episode of The Three Stooges.  This couldn't be happening.  She had never even seen Jim get drunk before.  Why now?  And since when did Dwight become the only person she could depend on to get her to the hospital?  It seemed like she was in some kind of bizarro world.

"So," Dwight said after several moments of quiet, "I'll just drop Michael off and Andy can get out there too..."

"What?" she gasped.  "You can't be serious.  Michael lives in the opposite direction from the hospital!"

"What do you want to do, bring him with us?" he snorted.

She turned and looked in the back seat.  Michael was humming softly to himself in the middle, Andy was leaned back in his seat, snoring, and Jim had his face against the window with his eyes closed.

"Gah!  Just get me to the hospital, and I don't care what you do with them after that."  She turned her attention back to Jim.  "Jim!"  He startled awake and mumbled something.  "Jim, focus here," she said.  "We are having a baby.  You have to sober up or you will miss it.  Do you understand?"

He nodded blankly, looking into her eyes.  "Pam?"

"What?"

"I think I'm gonna puke."

At the hospital Dwight helped Pam out of the car and grabbed Jim and pulled him out of the backseat. "Sorry about your window, man," Jim muttered apologetically. Dwight just glared at him, and then held his arm out to stop Michael from getting out.

"No, Michael. Pam has given me express orders that you and Andy are to stay in the car at all costs."

"Whhhaaat? I don't want to stay in here. It smells like puke, and Andy snores," he protested loudly. "At least call Jan and have her come get me."

"Already did, and she said no. Your baby is sleeping. You have to stay here."

"But why? I'll be good. I promise."

Dwight slammed the door on him and ran inside to get a wheelchair for Pam, who said, "It's okay, I'd rather walk," but was ignored. Jim just stood there, propped against the car, trying not to fall over. When Dwight returned with the wheelchair and a hospital orderly to help them get to the maternity ward, Pam looked at Jim and said, "I think he might need that more than I do." The orderly looked puzzled but didn't protest when Jim got into the chair. "Long story," mumbled Pam.

"So then, you can take it from here," Dwight said, standing back as they started into the hospital.

"What? No, you can't leave! I'll be alone!" she cried out.

"What are you talking about? Jim is right there," he said, pointing at Jim, who looked as though he was going to throw up again.

"Oh, come on! Does he really look like he's 'right there'?" She was about to cry. This was her worst nightmare.

Dwight's expression softened a bit. "Okay, okay. I'll just make sure you get settled in and then I will take the drunks home."

"Thank you," she said quietly.

When they got the maternity ward Pam was in the middle of a contraction, so Dwight told them they were here to check in.

"What's your wife's name, sir?" said the nurse, glancing from Pam down to Jim in the wheelchair.

"Oh, she's not my wife," he said. "That's her husband, but he's drunk," he said matter of factly. He lowered his voice, "Might you have an IV cocktail you can give him?"

The nurse just stared at him. "Um, so what is her name?"

"Oh, Pamela Beesly-Halpert. Do you need her social security number? Blood type? First pet's name?"

"That won't be necessary, sir," the nurse replied, and then approached Pam. "Let's get you to your room." They walked down the corridor to the room, the orderly still pushing Jim's wheelchair. Pam had another contraction as soon as she got in the room, and then the nurse asked her to change into a hospital gown. Dwight just stood there.

"Um, Dwight?" Pam said.

"You said you wanted me to stay."

"Okay, but..." Just then another contraction hit her, and she doubled over in pain. She couldn't speak at first but she took a breath and choked out, "Get nurse. Have to push."

Dwight ran outside and returned with the nurse, and then stood outside while the nurse helped Pam change and got her into bed. When he re-entered the room he saw Jim was throwing up into a bed pan. He walked over and hoisted Jim up by his shirt. "Jim! Your baby is coming. Now!" Jim swayed on his heels and said simply, "Okay." He walked over to Pam and held her hand. "I am so... sorry," he said softly.

She didn't reply but squeezed his hand. Hard. He yelped out in pain. "What was that for?"

"If you have to ask..." she snarled. At that point the nurse examined Pam, determining that she was, indeed, ready to push already, and the doctor entered the room. Dwight stood in the doorway, seemingly unsure whether to stay or go.

"Pam," Jim whispered into her ear.

"What?" she snapped.

"Why is Dwight here?"

"Jim?"

"Yeah?"

"Bite me."

Jim opened his eyes, not immediately recognizing his surroundings. He blinked a few times. The light was still dim, and the sun was just barely out. Suddenly some memories flickered in his head.

"I have an idea! Kar-ee-oh-kee!"

"Almost Paradise, knocking on heaven's door...."

"Your wife is in labor. Get a hold of yourself."

"Jim's pretty wasted."

"Jim! Your baby is coming. Now!"

"It's a boy!"

"Do you want to cut the cord, Daddy?"

He couldn't remember anything after that. He bolted upright, looking for Pam. She was in the hospital bed, facing away from him. "Pam?" He started to get up but felt a sharp pain in his arm. "Ouch! What the hell?"

Pam turned around. "Don't get up," she said. "You have an IV."

"What? Why?" He looked down at his arm and saw that he did, in fact, have an IV. And that he had been sleeping on a tiny fold-out bed in Pam's hospital room.

"You passed out. Right after the baby came, when they asked you to cut the cord. You hit your head on the floor, and Dwight jumped in and tried to do CPR, so they had to have security remove him. Then they tried to take you down to the ER, but one of the nice doctors here looked you over and told them to just give you an IV and let you sleep it off."

Jim had never been so embarrassed in his entire life. "Pam, God, I am so sorry. This is the biggest fuck-up in the history of... wait, the baby?!" He started to get up again, feeling like his head was about to explode. Pam lifted her right arm and turned slightly, revealing a tiny bundle.

"Six pounds, ten ounces," she said, smiling. "And he's perfect. No issues for being a tiny bit early."

Jim felt the tears brimming in his eyes. "Can I... hold him?"

"Not yet you can't," a voice from the doorway said. A nurse that he didn't remember (not that he remembered any of them) came into the room, walking over to him and examining his IV. "I don't think you need this anymore," she said, unceremoniously yanking it out as Jim yelped. "Now you can hold him."

Jim went over to Pam's bed and very gently took the sleeping baby from her arms. He was so tiny, so perfect. Jim brushed a tear off his cheek. "He's beautiful," he said, his voice cracking. Pam reached up and touched the tiny hand sticking out of the blanket. "Yes, he is," she said.

Jim was in awe, but his thoughts soon went back to what had happened the night before. "Pam, I - "

"Don't," she said. "Just... not now, okay? It will probably take me a long time to forgive you, but right now I just want to forget about it and enjoy William."

"William? I thought we were naming him Jacob?"

"No, he looks like a William," she said.

He just nodded and said, "Okay. Whatever you want." He looked down at the baby again. "Yeah, he does kind of look like a William."

For a few minutes he just stood there watching his son sleep. His son. William. He couldn't believe it. He was a daddy - one that didn't exactly get the best start, but a daddy nonetheless.

The baby started to stir, and let out a little cry. Jim quickly handed him back to Pam. "Did he... eat already?" he asked.

"Yes, he nurses like a professional!" Pam beamed, as she put the baby to her breast.

"A professional, eh?" Jim smirked.

Just then the nurse came back to the room and said, "Excuse me, but there is a man outside that says he knows - "

"Pam! Jim!" Michael suddenly burst through the door. "Are you a sight for sore... Yeeek!" His eyes caught sight of Pam's exposed breast, and he started mumbling gibberish.

"Sir!" the nurse yelled, "You just can't barge in here."

"It's okay, he can stay," said Pam, ignoring Michael's stares as she gazed down at William. The nurse exited, and Jim turned to Michael. "What are you doing here?"

Michael shook himself out of his trance, and replied, "Oh my God, last night was the worst. After Dwight locked me in the car I really had to pee, so I got out and went into the hospital. It took me forever to find the bathroom, and by that time I was so tired I just fell asleep on a couch somewhere, and then a little while ago the security guards tried to chase me out, but I said I was visiting you..."

"Yikes," Jim said.

"Plus now I have a huge hangover, and I think Jan wants a divorce." He turned back to Pam and the baby. "He looks just like you," he said to Jim.

"Really?" Jim wasn't sure why, but that gave him a warm feeling.

Michael started chuckling. "You know what would have been funny, if he had come out looking like Roy. That would have been hilarious."

Jim and Pam both stared at him, and he stopped laughing. "Okay, maybe not. Hey, can I be the godfather?"

They looked at each other and then Pam replied, "Actually, he already has a godfather."

"He does?" Michael and Jim said in unison.

"Yes, Dwight's going to be his godfather. If it weren't for him who knows what would have happened last night." She smiled broadly.

"You are kidding, right?" Jim asked, chuckling nervously.

"No, I'm totally serious. It's the least we could do, Jim."

"So I guess I am indebted to Dwight, again?"

"You could say that." Neither spoke for a few moments, and finally Michael said, "Okay, well, I should be going. Congratulations, you two." He gave Jim a hug and patted Pam on the arm before he left.

Jim went over to the bed and scooted next to Pam, putting his arm around her as he watched the baby nurse.

"Our son," he said, his eyes wide as he marveled at the possibilities.

Pam looked at him and grinned. "I love you," she said.

"I love you too," he replied, kissing her forehead tenderly.

"You might not say that after you learn what you have to do," she said deviously.

"Do? What do you mean?"

"To make up for last night," she answered.

He laughed. "Pam, I would do anything to make up for that monumental mistake. Whatever it is, I totally deserve it."

"All in due time, Halpert. All in due time." They smiled at each other, as their newborn son drifted off into a blissful sleep.