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A/N: Sorry for this crazy thing! It's just fluff, there's nothing to it. I am like the least creative person ever, I just had to write something before I exploded from all the premiere excitement. :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing but magnets and a t-shirt and some DVDs.

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She isn't as tired as she was in the beginning, and he's always there to keep her up anyway. But her eyes are dreamy and light and blink slowly when she catches him smirk at her.

He has had the picture resting on his thigh for a few minutes, saving it for something, while he was busy with some stack of paper on his desk. She'd seen it there and had itched to take another look at it, but his fingers were trailing lightly over it for a while. She figured he probably had something to say about it.

But, no. He just kind of bites his lip as he looks over at her, takes a simple piece of tape, and delicately secures the picture over another in a frame.


I actually haven't been very emotional at all. Just because, I mean, you hear about all kinds of hormonal craziness. I'm waiting for it to start. It's what my sister keeps joking about. But otherwise, nothing like that yet. Until I catch his face after he does this. And all he really does is just look over at me and smile, just shrugging a little, before getting back to whatever he was working on.

What's truly funny is that the first night we had that picture, it was a Friday. We stayed up all night. We actually pulled an all-nighter, we didn't go to sleep until seven. At least I did, I know for a fact Jim had to be up for another hour or two with his hand on my belly. We talked about everything baby-related until we just couldn't talk anymore, as if our mouths were just too spent, but our eyes wouldn't close. When all we had were our thoughts, that's when Jim's hand rested on my skin and my mind wandered.

Sometimes I try to think what it would be like if this wasn't happening, or if I was in the past, or -- and it really feels weird to say this -- if I was doing this with someone else. And, just like now, it hurts too much to say it, it's too uncomfortable. I only think these things because I wonder if I'm truly grateful enough. I feel like I'm so happy that something's bound to slip through my fingers eventually, and if it ever happens (god forbid, if it ever happens), I want to soak up all I can now.

Smiling at Jim now, my thoughts seem absurd. I'm just happy and excited and loved and just .. just all those feelings, I guess.

I just can't imagine anyone else. Who else points at the first picture we have of our little thing and says, "He's got your nose!" And pretends choking up, lets me swat his shoulder, pulls me close for a kiss, and pushes his lips against my ear just to tell me he loves me?

Lucky for me, this is the guy I fall asleep next to every night.

I think this is the beginning of the rage of pregnancy hormones. I guess I owe my sister some money.

I glance at the picture again before I try and turn back to work. The tape is just pressed into the frame, so I can clearly make out Jim's thumbprint. Jim's thumbprint, from Jim's big and working hands, long and strong fingers over the most delicate, the softest and sweetest thing in our lives.

I drop my pen slightly, and Jim's eyes flick to mine with kind curiosity. He sees the tears in my eyes and smiles sympathetically, raising his eyebrows. My slight grin tells him that they aren't tears anything close to sadness, and he already knows why I'm like this.

He stands up, pushes his chair back against his desk, and when I stand up, he gently grabs my wrist.

He pulls me to the same place we always go when we need a moment away from the cameras and our coworkers. Sometimes they catch us, usually they don't. We're next to the elevator, and we just grin widely at each other. I lurch forward and squeeze his biceps with my slightly shaky hands.

"You owe Penny money," he laughs into my hair.

I back up and hold my hands out, surrendering. "I know! I was just thinking that in there." I let out a shuddering breath. "Oh wow."

I'm pressing a hand to my forehead and he's chuckling at me. I just smile as I start to lose the goosebumps and the fluttering in my chest.

"It's still a little weird," Jim muses, scratching his elbow, looking at the elevator doors, his shoes, my eyes. "Even if we've had time to get used to it."

I nod, swallowing with my dry mouth sticking together inside. "Like we're finally going to get used to it, and then it'll be here? Something else to wrap our minds around..."

His face looks a little pink this time when he smiles, and he grabs for my hand again. "Let's get back inside, hmm?"

I nod again, that's all I'm doing. Jim told me that's a salesperson trick.

We're walking back inside, the only noise the swish of his pants and the scuffs of our shoes. We hear a door open and assume it's the cameras coming to catch us.

"You good?" I nod again. All this damn nodding. Made a sale! That's not funny, is it? "Baby good?" Ahh, I'm just nodding again. "Let's go."

He tugs me through the door, "Oh! I forgot to ask you. Okay, how good does lasagna sound? That kind that we had when we went out with your parents last month? I woke up craving that the other night."

I look up at him with wide eyes. He's smiling and nodding (salesman) because he knows this is the other part of having a pregnant fiancee. Bottomless pit of a stomach, love for italian food.


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