Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended

Huge thanks to NanReg and Vampiric Blood for your help with this. You're awesome, but you know that.







He was opening a cardboard box in the nursery when he was startled to hear a small scream followed by a thud in the bedroom next door. He dropped his pocket knife in an instant and made it to the adjacent door in six strides, just in time to see Pam finish picking herself up off the floor. By the time he reached her, she had already plopped into a hardback chair in front of the closet, which was far from its usual place in the opposite corner of the room.


“Are you all right, Pam? What happened?” His heart was racing, but he was relieved to see anger in her expression rather than pain.


“Oh, I’m okay,” she hissed. “My foot slipped when I was trying to stand on this...this stupid chair,” she spat the last words out, clearly upset. “All I wanted to do was to put this,” she pointed to the plastic container on the ground beside her, “up there,” she explained, stabbing her finger toward the top shelf of the closet. “Can’t I do anything?” she wailed, and a tear of frustration found its way down her cheek as she added in exasperation, “My socks. My socks are slick.” As if that were the only problem.


Pam sat sniffling in the chair with her big flannel shirt pulled tight over her swollen belly. She wore stretch knit pants on legs that stuck out ungracefully at a wide angle and Jim had to control his urge to chuckle when he saw the thick fuzzy pink socks that covered her feet. How had he not noticed these earlier? She must have put them on recently.


His pulse had returned to normal, so he took a deep breath and said calmly, “Pam, you should have called me.” He tried his best to make it sound like a suggestion rather than a reprimand. “You’re not safe up on a chair in socks right now, you know?”


The concern in his voice must have been evident, because she looked up to meet his eyes, finally realizing that she’d scared him. “I’m sorry, my foot just slipped,” she shrugged. “I didn’t...well...it didn’t seem like such a big deal. I’d like to think I’m still capable of doing something,” she snorted.


“How about some shoes on those...(he wasn’t sure what to call them) feet, then?” he asked, trying to offer a practical solution. He knelt to rummage in the bottom of the closet.


“Don’t bother,” she rolled her eyes in disgust. “I can’t get them on.”


He found her favorite house shoes and started to slip one onto her foot, only to find that she was right. Her feet and ankles were badly swollen under the socks.

“Cinderella, you aren’t,” he quipped, and delighted in her shocked expression while he moved quickly out of range of her retaliatory swat. In the same motion, he grabbed the plastic container with a long arm and rose to place it easily on the shelf. “See? Simple. All you have to do is ask.”


"Showoff,” she said, but he noticed a brief smile play on her lips. This was progress.


The baby was due in two weeks, and this weekend they’d decided – or rather Pam had decided – that all the boxes they’d stored in the nursery had to be unpacked and their contents relocated. It was already late in the afternoon, and other than stopping for a bite of lunch, they’d been working constantly since that morning. Jim silently wondered if this was the “nesting phase” he’d read about that women were supposed to go through right before the baby was born, but he knew better than to suggest that to Pam.


“I can’t even reach my feet,” she whined, still frustrated. “Look at me!” she motioned to her protruding belly. “I’m like a...a beached whale. I’m fat. I’m ugly. I’m all swollen up. Jim, I can’t even put a box in the closet!” Her eyes welled up with tears as she worked herself up again.


“Hey, hey,” he said tenderly, “You are gorgeous, Pam. And you can still do lots of things.” He considered elaborating about this very morning, but then again, maybe not just now.


“Humph,” she replied, clearly not convinced.


Here was where things got sticky, Jim had observed. Over the last three weeks or so, sleeping had become difficult for his wife, and her frustration levels had increased dramatically. With some regularity, she’d reach some unpredictable breaking point and have a meltdown like this. When he tried to soothe her, he had to be very careful, because the slightest misstep on his part would end with even more tears. The obvious response of “Pam, you’re trying to do too much. You’re tired and you need a snack and a nap” might sound logical and helpful, but hard earned experience had taught him otherwise.


“How about I go down and get you a snack? A banana maybe?” Jim offered cautiously.


“I don’t want food,” she said, pouting. “I want to feel normal again.”


As it turned out, this time little Daniel was ready with an assist. All of a sudden there was an unmistakable movement of the shirt over Pam’s belly. Then a progressive wave undulated across the front of her abdomen, lasting several seconds, as the baby continued to shift.


“Oh,” Pam said in surprise at yet another kick, and instinctively put her hand on her belly.


Jim placed his hand beside hers and together they felt the baby rearranging in his confines. His face lit up spontaneously in a huge infectious grin, and when Pam looked at him, she couldn’t help but smile as well.


“That will NEVER cease to be amazing,” Jim said in reverent awe. “And it’s way better than being normal.”


She met his eyes and begrudgingly agreed, if only with her expression. I already owe you one, little guy, Jim thought to himself.


Now he needed to make good use of this advantage. “So Pam, why don’t you lie down for a few minutes - let me rub your feet...” he ventured.


She looked hesitant. “But we need to get all..”


He interrupted. “Then we can finish up the boxes and after that I’ll run out and pick up some Meridee’s for dinner.” Pam had developed an unnatural craving for bread, Jim noted, and each of Meridee’s entrees came with the best yeast rolls in town. “Some of those great yeast rolls?”


He saw her expression soften just the smallest amount, and he took his cue.


“C’mon,” he beckoned, taking her hand and leaning back to help her to her feet.

She let him lead her to the bed. “Just lie down here,” he suggested, patting the bed, “and I’ll rub your feet for a few minutes while you rest.” He would have suggested other activities, but they’d already done that early this morning. The upside of Pam not being able to sleep and having all these raging hormones, was that she was always wanting to...um...make love. And far be it for him, her helpful husband, not to make damn sure his wife got everything she needed. “Truth is, Pam, I’m dying to feel up those socks,” he leered.


“Pervert,” she said, but she giggled a little.


That was more like it, Jim thought, not denying a thing.


“Okay,” she agreed reluctantly, “but I’m not going to take a nap.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Just for a few minutes.”


“Right,” he agreed amiably. “Then it’s back to work.”


And with that, she climbed awkwardly into bed, settling on her side facing the edge.

“Here, don’t think you’ll need these.” Jim reached to lift off her glasses and place them on the night table. Then he took a seat at the foot of the bed and ever so gently started kneading her swollen, sock covered feet. Where in the world had she found these ridiculous socks? He felt her slowly relax as he worked, and knew he was successful when she let out a deep sigh.


“Oh, that feels good,” she breathed quietly, her eyes closed. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it for two more weeks,” she admitted, “and that’s if he comes on time.”


“One day at a time, Beesly,” he soothed and soon he noticed her breathing become slow and regular. He lessened his touch gradually until he was sure she was asleep. Then he unfolded the worn quilt that lay over the footboard of the bed, and carefully pulled it over her.


Time to get to work, he thought. There were boxes to be cleared, and the more he could get done while she was sleeping, the better. He tiptoed silently toward the door, but when he reached that portal, he paused. He placed a hand high on the door frame, and turned back to look at her.


The golden afternoon light shone in through the long window over their bed. In the shadows below, his wife lay sleeping peacefully, heavily pregnant, her curls spilling out over the pillow they’d shared this morning. She was draped with a patchwork quilt his grandmother had stitched many years before. Even in that instant, he knew this moment would stay with him forever.


He and Pam were on the verge of starting their own family, here, together, in the only place he’d ever called home. Never, he reflected, had the world seemed quite this right.





.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.




Pam poked her head into Cece’s bedroom at the same instant her thirteen year old daughter burst through the door.

“Oh my God!” Cece exclaimed, as she jumped sideways, startled. The overfilled paper grocery bag she carried tilted to the left side, spilling much of its contents out on to the hallway floor. “Gosh, mom, warn me!” she snapped, scooping up items and attempting to stuff them back into the bag.

“Sorry,” Pam sputtered, backing out of the door to allow this whirlwind of a teenager plenty of space. “Cleaning out the room?”

Cece plopped the disheveled sack in the vicinity of three other bags already situated haphazardly in the hallway. “Obviously,” she answered, rolling her eyes as she bent to grab a worn fabric seat cushion. She looked at the faded green cushion with an unmistakable expression of disgust and tossed it back on top of one of the overflowing bags. “Getting rid of all this junk.” She paused to brush an errant strand of hair from her face. “And the kiddie stuff,” she added as an afterthought. “Phillip can have anything he wants out here.”

“Oh…kay,” Pam answered, raising a dubious eyebrow. She noted Princess Patty’s legs sticking out of the top of one bag in a very unladylike pose. That’s unlikely – not exactly hot items for an eleven year old boy, she thought to herself as she scanned the items, but then her eye stopped on the discarded green cushion.

As Cece blustered back into her room, Pam lifted the cushion from the stack, calling to her daughter through the doorway, “Are you sure you want to get rid of this?”

Cece sighed heavily as she turned back to glimpse what her mother was talking about, and then dismissed it with an annoyed wave. “Mom,” she explained impatiently, “I don’t need a ratty old pillow on my desk chair. Besides, can’t you see it doesn’t go with my new color scheme? If you were really an artist, you’d understand color.” And with that, her head disappeared back into her closet.

Pam pulled the pillow to her chest, ignoring the put down. “It’s just that…” she smiled as she hesitated, and then called out louder so the girl in the closet could hear her, “…you…I…always liked this. It was in the rocking chair for years…”

Cece reappeared in Pam’s sight and faced her mother, putting one hand on her hip and tilting her head downward to look over her glasses. Pam recognized the pose – the one that Jim maintained she had genetically passed on to their daughter. “I don’t have a rocking chair anymore mom, in case you haven't noticed. And that…thing…is horrible and you can keep it if you like it so much. Besides, you’re the one who’s always wanting me to clean up my room, right?”

Pam licked her lips in reluctant admission, and agreed. “Right..”

“So, is that all, or can I get back to doing what you asked me to do?”

“Watch it young lady,” Pam warned, and then conceded, “But I am glad you’re cleaning out your room.”

Cece disappeared into the closet without acknowledging her mother’s words. Not the response Pam would have preferred, but she’d learned to pick her battles wisely with this newly teenage creature who inhabited their house. This issue wasn’t worth it, so Pam simply shook her head and proceeded down the hall into the master bedroom. She sat down on the foot of her bed, still clutching the cushion, as her thoughts took her back several years to a chilly April morning, when Cece was about thirteen months old.

She remembered it so clearly~~~



When Pam’s eyes fluttered open that Saturday morning in April, she was quick to notice that she was alone in their bed. She reached over to her nightstand for a cracker before she even raised her head from the pillow and nibbled grudgingly, hoping to ward off the daily bouts of nausea she’d had for three weeks running.

A glance at the clock showed it was already seven thirty in the morning. Jim must have gotten up with Cece – their little bundle of energy never slept past five thirty. Never. And with Pam’s new pregnancy, she couldn’t ever seem to get enough sleep. Thank you she thought, and made a note to remember to actually thank Jim. The extra couple of hours hadn’t cured her exhaustion, but it helped, and the nausea always bothered her less when she got more rest.

She heard muffled voices down in the vicinity of Cece’s room, and supposed she really should go relieve Jim. Pam rose slowly - so far, so good on the stomach- and pulled her robe around her. Jim’s animated voice became progressively clearer as she padded down the hall. Not wanting to interrupt, she quietly slipped to hide behind the partially open door, peering though the space between the hinges and door frame so she could watch, unseen.

Cece was sitting on her play mat on the floor, intently watching her daddy. He sat crosslegged in front of her, still wearing his blue pajama bottoms and t shirt, and he had assembled a menagerie of stuffed animals all around him. “So. Do you want daddy to tell you a really good story, Cece?” he asked enthusiastically.

“Yeth,” she nodded, sitting wide eyed, clearly wondering just what Daddy was going to do next.

“Okay. But wait one minute, because daddy’s bony behind… “he hopped up, bounded a few steps to the rocker, and returned with the green pillow from the seat, ”…needs some padding.” He resumed his crosslegged stance in front of Cece, but now the green pillow pooched out under the margins of his blue clad buttocks. Forgetting her anonymity, Pam turned her head away for a moment to hide her amusement.

“Now,” Jim resumed, as he nestled down into the pillow. “Once upon a time…” Cece’s eyes were glued on him as Jim held up a stuffed white horse with a small blue flower in its mane. “…there was this horse. And she was beautiful.” He made small neighing noises and moved the horse on the floor in front of Cece, pretending to prance around.

The child smiled and cooed in delight.

“But this horse belonged to,” Jim’s voice changed to a low, snarly tone. “Mr. Pig.”
With his other hand, he brought the stuffed pink pig up in front of him, making him waddle up to the horse with ugly grunting noises for sound effects. This elicited more chortling from Cece.

“Mr. Pig and the horse lived down on Mr. Schrute’s farm, and Mr. Pig was always telling her that she should get to work plowing the fields. He had no idea what a special horse she actually was, and didn’t appreciate that she was capable of being a lot more than that.” He flipped the horse from side to side, making her mane fly, to illustrate how lovely she was.

“Now Mr. Frog… “ Jim dropped the pig, and slipped his right hand into a Kermit puppet, animating it so that it boisterously approached the horse. “…was a good friend of the horse. They laughed and played together next to the pond, and Mr. Frog always told the horse that she could be a beautiful show horse and win ribbons.” Jim made the horse and the frog puppet dance together for Cece.

“But when Mr. Pig heard about that…“Now Jim dropped the horse to the side, and moved the pig to stand menacingly in front of the frog “…he told the horse that the frog was wrong and that the horse should be content there on the farm with him. And he told the frog to go away.” At this point, the stuffed pig pummeled the frog over and over.

“This made the frog very sad,” Jim said, and the puppet on his hand flopped over and beat his head against the floor while Jim made an exaggerated sad face, and cried, ”Waaaa!”

Cece found the slapstick hilarious and her voice rang out with peals of unselfconscious laughter - the kind that only a small child can produce - much to her father’s satisfaction.

Pam, however, bit her bottom lip as she stood, still and silent, peering through the crack as the story continued.

“Finally Mr. Frog got so desperate,” Jim continued as he smacked Kermit against the floor once more for good measure, “that he mustered his courage and told the horse that he loved her.” Kermit stroked the horse’s mane with his puppet hand.

“But the horse told the frog that she liked plowing and wanted to stay with the pig.” Jim made the stuffed horse turn and prance away from the frog, going to sit beside the pig, and made him grunt loudly. At that point, Jim also made an under the arm farting noise to further define the pig’s response.

Cece giggled and sat transfixed, caught in the spell of her father’s antics. She wasn’t the only one. Pam’s hand came to her mouth as she realized what she was hearing.

“So Mr. Frog went far away…” he exaggerated the frog’s hop, hopping away,”…and he found a dog to be his new friend. They had an okay time together in the far away place. “ Jim fetched a plush red dog with his left hand and moved it alongside the Kermit puppet before dropping them and reaching back for the pig.

“In the meantime, the horse realized that her friend the frog had been right. She didn’t want to stay with Mr. Pig on the farm after all.” Jim picked up the horse and turned its back end toward the pig, making violent kicking motions. And after a few kicks, Jim made the pig go scampering away with a loud, silly, “Weeet! Weeeeeet! Weeeet!”

More clueless but enthusiastic laughter from Cece…

“When the frog heard about what horse did, he hoped she might send word to him, but she never did. Maybe she was just deciding what she…wanted.” Jim’s voice tapered off, and he paused for a moment. Cece began to fidget.

He quickly recovered and resumed the story, picking up the dog and putting the frog puppet on his hand. “Now the frog liked the dog pretty well, but sometimes she bit him, and he still missed his friend, the horse. “ To illustrate this, Jim had the red dog growl and bite at the frog, and he snapped his teeth together loudly. Cece’s eyes widened and she clapped the palms of her hands together. Sometimes she missed, whacking the air with her little palms.

“So Mr. Frog and the dog decide go back to Mr. Schrute’s farm. One day the dog is growling at Mr. Frog, so he accidently on purpose catches the dog’s tail in the screen door and this makes the dog very angry, and she decides to leave.” Jim made growling noises and then the dog puppet ran off, howling. Then Jim threw the dog across the room and picked the horse back up.

“Then the frog and the horse realize they belong together, and the horse decides to go to the show after all. Mr. Frog was happy with that because he wants the horse to be happy, too.” Jim makes the horse gallop along, whistling. “But when the horse gets to the show, she finds that the ribbons and fancy things aren’t as cool as she thought. You know, she has too take too many baths, and it hurts to braid her mane, and stuff like that.” He shook the horse’s mane while blowing air between his pursed lips to made a horse like snorting sound.

Pam was glad her hand was still over her mouth, because she had to suppress a giggle.

“So the horse leaves the show and comes back to Mr. Frog at the pond, and they get married. “ Jim trotted the horse and frog together side by side, singing, dum, dum, de dum, much to Cece’s continuing delight.

“And then they had a baby…a baby…” Jim hesitated, trying to find the right word. “Frorse!! “ he exclaimed triumphantly. “And,” he grinned widely, pointing at his daughter’s face, “they named her…” He moved the frog puppet slowly toward her nose, and just as he touched it, he said, “Cece!”

Joyous laughter erupted from the child, and Jim lifted himself off the green cushion, dropping his animal props.

“Aaaand, now, we’re going to go get Cece a snack.”

“Nack!” she cried, clapping her palms together again. “Nack!" She reached up with both hands, expecting to be picked up, and she was not disappointed. Jim swooped down and gathered her, lifting her quickly and saying, “Cece’s an airplane,” while he “flew” her around the room.

At that moment, Pam realized she was in danger of being discovered spying, so she tiptoed quickly back to the bedroom and crawled back in bed, just in case they came her way. She needn’t have worried – she heard Jim’s footsteps on the stairs and the sounds of Cece’s happy babbling fading downward toward the kitchen.

She waited a few moments before she rose again. As she walked down to join her family, she stole a glance into Cece’s empty room. There sat the green cushion on the floor next to the play mat, surrounded by several discarded stuffed animals. The frog puppet and the stuffed horse, however, had been placed together on the cushion.

The same faded cushion that Pam held in her arms right now.

~~~


“Hey!” he said loudly, and Pam jumped, startled. Jim bolted into the bedroom toward the dresser like a man on a mission, and asked, “What are you doing in here?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “And what is up with Cece? I asked her what she was doing with all that junk in the hall and she took my head off.”

He quickly reached the dresser, fishing a hand into his sock drawer and pulling out a clean pair. “Feet got wet,” he explained without really explaining. He looked back over his shoulder at her, sitting on the foot of the bed with the old pillow clutched to her chest, and narrowed his eyes.

“You okay?”

“Yes,” she smiled broadly. “Yes, I am.” She rose to join him beside the dresser, and reached up to give him a peck on the cheek. That stopped him in his tracks. “What are you doing, Beesly? Isn’t that the old rocking chair cushion?” he asked absently, because now his full attention was on Pam’s nearness. He pressed his chest to her back, trapping her against the dresser, and reached his arms around her, brushing her breast lightly with one arm in the process.

Pam glanced at their open bedroom door and quickly slipped out of his embrace. “Watch it mister,” she retorted. She pulled away and smacked him in the rear with the cushion. “You and your bony behind.”

“Jeez Pam, first Cece and then you. Such abuse, “ he grinned. Their eyes met and held each other’s for an instant in a subtle unspoken promise. Later.

“Poor daddy.” Pam smiled mischievously and lifted an eyebrow. “It’s not easy being green.” she said and she placed the cushion on the seat of the wooden chair by the dresser before making a quick exit from the bedroom.

“What?” he asked, completely puzzled. He shrugged and sat down on the newly cushioned chair to change his socks. “Hey, this is better,” he said to the empty room, settling his seat on the cushion. “Can we leave this here?” he called after her while he stuffed his foot in a sock, but she was already well out of earshot.

~

The ten o’clock hour found them together in bed, making love. Pam rested on her back, naked, and Jim’s long legs were bent under him to either side of her legs, holding his trunk suspended above her, ready to move at just the right time. He was lavishing her with hungry kisses, seeing to her needs, when out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of it - the green cushion - sitting in its new home on the bedroom chair.

She looked back at her husband. He was hunched over her much like…well…a frog…she thought, privately amused. But he was certainly attending to all the right spots, and soon she felt an overwhelming warmness spread through her. He had never had any trouble finding her rainbow connection, she thought wryly, but wisely kept the bad joke to herself.


Later, as they lay side by side, Jim breathed heavily into her ear, exhaling that contented sigh he always sighed after a particularly good session of lovemaking. “Ummm.”

“Definitely ummm,” she agreed. Strains of music from the movie that Cece was watching down in the den made its way through their closed door. “We were quiet, weren’t we?”

“Not sure. Lost track in there somewhere,” he smiled and playfully nuzzled the angle of her jaw.

“Maybe we’d better check on Phillip,” Pam frowned, hoping he really was asleep in his room.

“What, you want to go ask him if he heard his mom screaming, “Yes! Yes, right th…” he grinned, but was unable to finish his question.

“Shut up!” Pam sputtered as she swatted him. “You know he goes to sleep without any covers on,” she said defensively. “Do you want your son to freeze to death?”

“Okay, okay, I’ll go check,” he shook his head and rose quickly. He pulled on his underwear and pajama bottoms, and tugged a t shirt over his head. Then he sat down on the chair to put on his socks.

“Hey Pam, can we leave this cushion here?” he asked. “I know the color is weird, but it sure makes this chair easier to sit in.”

“Yup,” she smiled into the darkness. “We sure can.”

After Jim left to check on Phillip, Pam sank down into the warmth of her pillow and pulled the comforter up around her neck. As drowsiness overcame her, she heard Kermit’s voice, softly singing the tune in her head:

“…and green can be big, like an ocean
Or important like a mountain,
Or tall like a tree…”

A few minutes later, Jim walked back into the bedroom. He sat down on the cushioned chair to remove his socks, and commented, “Man, you never know which Cece you’re going to get anymore, the thirty year old or the three year old. She was down there bawling her eyes out over some silly animal movie.”

He then slipped into bed beside Pam. “And Phillip was covered up, by the…”

Looking more closely at his wife, he realized she was already asleep, and he chuckled at himself. He reached to brush his lips across her cheek, and noticed the hint of a smile lingering on her face. He wondered what she was dreaming about, and hoped it was him.

Jim turned off the light, snuggled in beside her, and said smugly to no one in particular, “Yup, I’m thinking I had something to do with that smile.”

He had no idea.





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