A/N: Having trouble finishing the next part of Still Life, but I managed to finish this instead. After PDA aired, I had the thought of, "How would something like that affect Cece if she saw/heard about it in the future?" and went with it. Un-beta'd, which may have been a mistake, but... here it is anyway.

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.

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xx
It’s one of those days where he wonders where the time has gone.

Thirty-one years ago, he was waiting not far from this very same spot for his mother to arrive after his first day of junior high school, and here he is now—a forty-three year-old husband and father of two waiting to pick up his daughter after her own first day.

It feels like some sort of time warp.

He smiles, though, when he sees her break through the crowd of students and wave goodbye to one of her friends. He was a little nervous when he and Pam dropped her off this morning and saw all the older (bigger) kids, but she looks like she belongs here already. She’s growing up. Twelve and a half years ago, she was barely the length of his forearm, and now she’s a five-foot-three seventh grader who is also a loving daughter, a caring big sister, a good student, and a talented volleyball player.

He couldn’t be more proud of his Cecelia Marie.

“Hey, kid,” Jim greets her as she opens the door to the backseat and flings her backpack inside. “How’d it go?”

“I don’t want to talk about it with you,” she grumbles, climbing inside and slamming door shut behind her, making it very obvious that she is not happy.

“Um, that’s… fine… I guess,” he answers slowly, confused because Cece has been a daddy’s girl since day one and usually talks his ear off about every good, bad, and in-between thing that ever happens to her. “Are you okay?”

He recalls one other time when she was like this—an afternoon a several months ago where she came home crying because some girls had been picking on her for being flat-chested (in sixth grade, no less). She was hurt and embarrassed, and the only person she would talk to was Pam, who told him everything later because there are just some things that a girl can’t tell her father.

A girl thing, he thinks. This must be some sort of a girl thing.

She’s going to be a teenager in half a year, after all, so it makes sense that there are just some things at this point in her life that only her mother can understand.

But, oh, is he wrong.

“One of the ninth graders asked me if my mom and dad still like to do it in the shower.”

It’s a good thing there’s a red light coming out of the school parking lot; otherwise, he probably would have driven off the road.

“Whoa, hold on, what?”

That was absolutely not at all what he was expecting to hear come out of her mouth.

“The stupid documentary!” She snaps as angry tears begin to spill down her cheeks. “You and Mom did stuff at work, and then you told the camera that you and Mom… you know… in the shower, and now everyone knows that you guys are gross!”

It’s been more than a decade since it happened and about five years since he has seen the episode, but he remembers and knows exactly what she is talking about.

“Oh god.”

There’s really nothing else he can say. It’s usually a pretty damn good memory, but now? He’s embarrassed, and this is not a conversation he wants to be having.

“Everyone kept teasing me about it all day, and I had to keep defending you guys until I just couldn’t take it anymore,” she sobs. “Daddy, why would you say that on TV? Why would you do that?”

“Um, well—”

“It’s so disgusting! Did you even think about me at all?”

Honestly, before now, it had never occurred to him how his children (or their peers, for that matter) might react to seeing or hearing about that day.

“It was hard to imagine you being twelve years old back then, Cee,” he answers awkwardly. “I guess I didn’t think that—“

“I don’t care! Today was the worst day of school I have ever had, and you ruined junior high for me!”

The latter is an exaggeration, for sure, but he still feels awful.


xx

Upon arriving home, Cece throws her backpack to the ground just inside the entryway, rushes past her mother, and heads straight up to her bedroom where she slams the door.

Moments later, Jim emerges through the front door looking startled and a little bit guilty, and Pam is immediately curious as to what went on during the ride home.

“What happened?”

He meets her eyes and shakes his head as he sets his keys down on the kitchen counter.

“Where's Philip?”

“Out back with the dog. Why? Jim, what—?“

“Remember that one Valentine’s Day where we had too much to drink at lunch and then ended up having sex at work?”

She smirks. “Do you mean the day that we probably made Philip?”

His eyes widen as he realizes that, one day, those mean kids at school might use that as even more ammunition.

“Oh shit,” he mumbles, thinking out loud. “They’re going to find out about that one, too.”

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that some of the older kids at Cece’s school must have seen that episode of the documentary, and—”

“Oh no.”

“Yeah,” he confirms. “So now everyone is making fun of her, and she blames me because I’m the one who made the comment to the camera about sex in the shower.”

xx
“Cece? Can I come in?”

She knocks on her daughter’s closed bedroom door and gets a muffled, “Whatever,” in response. Taking that as permission to enter, Pam walks in to find Cece, in her new first-day-of-school outfit, curled up and sniffling into the turquoise comforter on her twin bed.

It breaks her heart.

Cece has almost always been good about the fact that her parents were on a mildly successful documentary-turned-comedy series, shrugging it off most of the time and answering curious questions as necessary. The show started airing when she was just a toddler, finished its run when she was in third grade, and though she has had a very normal childhood, she really hasn’t known any life other than what it’s like to be the daughter of parents who fell in love on television and a child who was on camera a handful of times from birth to age two. Over the years, it has caused a few problems and some teasing, but until now, nothing has affected her this deeply.

“I’m sorry,” Pam murmurs, curling up next to Cece who is facing away from her. She remembers her own preteen years and knows from experience that kids that age can be relentless and horrible. “Sweetie, I can’t even imagine how—“

“You don’t even know. People kept making jokes about you guys, and it was so embarrassing,” Cece whimpers. “Why did you guys do that?”

“Well, um---“

“And why did Daddy have to say that thing about the shower?”

“Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I wasn’t happy when he said it back then either,” she answers, recalling the way she felt when her husband revealed that very private tidbit during their joint talking head. “But he was just trying to be funny, Cece. You know your dad likes to joke around. That’s just what he does.”

“Well it wasn’t funny at all.”

“It was a long time ago,” she reasons. “He feels really bad.”

“I don’t care. He should. Everyone at school knows about it, and it’s just so weird and gross and embarrassing.”

“Cece, everyone’s parents—”

“Please don’t finish that sentence,” her daughter begs. “Mom, you didn’t hear the things they were saying. I don’t want to go to school tomorrow.”

“I know,” she sympathizes, kissing the crown of her head. “You know what, though? Remember when you were in second grade and some of the big kids saw the episode with your christening?”

Cece nods.

“They called me Pee-Pee Halpert the next day ‘cause I peed all over my christening dress.”

Pam almost laughs at the memory of Jim walking back into the church toting a blue t-shirt-clad baby Cece. At the time, she was horrified, but in hindsight, it’s one of her favorite memories of her oldest daughter’s infancy and of her husband’s early days of parenthood.

“Yes, but then the weekend came, and by Monday, you were just Cece again,” she reminds her gently. “Look, I know it doesn’t feel like it right now, but this whole thing is going to end up just like that.”

Cece considers this possibility for a moment before turning over to face her mother. “What if it doesn’t?” She asks tearfully. “This was way worse than that was.”

“Then we’ll figure something out, okay? I don’t want anyone picking on my girl,” Pam assures her before pushing herself to a sitting position and holding out her arms. “Now, come ‘ere.”

Cece reveals a watery smile and moves into her mother’s embrace. Pam hugs her tightly, and it’s suddenly bittersweet—they’re almost the same height now. It’s not like it was years ago where she could easily pick her up and cradle her. Cecelia is still her baby, though, and she just wants to comfort her in any way she can.

They sit quietly like this for a few minutes before Cece pulls away and breaks the silence.

“Mom?”

“Yeah?”

“The next time that me and Philip come home from spending a Saturday with Grandma or Aunt Penny, please don’t say that you and Dad went for a walk while we were gone, okay? Because I know what that means now.”

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A/N: It's been really slow here lately, and it seems the only time I can write is when I have big deadlines and exams at school. Ha. So. I decided to expand upon this. Thanks, Deedldee for helping me keep Jim and Pam in-character as the parents of a teenager :)

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.

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xx

Four years later...

Pam doesn't know what to think when her husband arrives home and walks into the kitchen with wide eyes and a shocked expression on his face, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he tries to formulate words. She can't tell if he's happy or upset or what, but he looks oddly pale and left the front door part-way open.

"Are you okay?"

He sits down at the kitchen table and shakes his head in a way that makes her start to worry. She has no idea what could have happened in the thirty minutes that have lapsed between now and when he called her just before leaving work. He sounded fine then.

"Does Cece have a boyfriend?" He asks, his voice cracking slightly on the last word.

It's a strange question. She isn't sure what she was expecting, but it wasn't that.

"I don't think so," she answers because, as far as she knows, Cece has never had a boyfriend in her life, and surely, if she did, she would tell her own mother. They are close, after all, and Cece is terrible at keeping secrets. But what does all of this have to do with Jim looking so completely unnerved?

"Well, she was making out with some kid in a car parked on the curb about five houses down."

Ah. That's why.

He stares at her for a moment with a helpless expression, but before she has time to even think, 'No, my baby would never do that,' or ask, 'Are you sure it was her?' he continues.

"We made eye-contact when I pulled up alongside them, she panicked, and I almost hit a mailbox," he explains before roughly running a hand through his hair and then raising his voice to a volume that he very rarely uses. His tone is harsh, almost a little scary because it is so out-of-character for him, but then again, they have never faced something like this before. "God, Pam, she knows better! We taught her better than that! She's only sixteen!"

They both know as soon as he says it that sixteen really isn't all that young for this kind of behavior, but still… making out in a car? Their daughter? Their sweet, innocent, precious little baby girl?

Pam is speechless. She looks at her husband and shakes her head in disbelief before looking out the kitchen window to see Cecelia nervously (and very slowly) walking toward the house. Her face looks like her father's had when he first walked in a minute ago—stunned, visibly shaken—and her somewhat slumped posture indicates guilt and embarrassment. Pam instantly wants to comfort her. While she may not appreciate the fact that Cece omitted this significant new development in her life, she remembers what it's like to be that age, to have that first boyfriend, and to feel so grown-up, and she finds herself surprisingly a little excited for her daughter. Cece has always been shy, and maybe this will be a good thing for her.

To Jim, though, this whole thing is clearly a crisis.

"I think I'm going to be sick," he groans, dismally burying his face in his crossed arms on the table.

She walks over and begins to massage the tension out of the back of his neck.

"Listen, she's coming up the sidewalk right now, and I know we've never dealt with anything like this before, but Jim, we need to be rational," she reasons gently, and he grumbles something to himself about how he is being rational. "If we can talk to her without raising our voices, we'll have a better chance of getting her to cooperate."

He nods.

"Now let's go wait for her in the living room, and once she gets in, we'll talk about it, lay some ground rules, and learn to deal with this.

xx

As she follows him to the couch, she tries to think fast about what to say—something that isn't outright accusatory or guilt-provoking, but still conveys that they both know her secret now and take it very seriously. Something calm, but firm.

"Did you have a good time with Emma and Abby?" is what ends up coming out.

Cece, who had said that she was going to the mall with friends after school, initially looks horrified, but then turns to Jim with angry tears in her eyes.

"You told her?"

"Cece—" Pam starts evenly before being cut off by her husband.

"Of course I told her. She's your mother!" He argues from his place on the couch. "We don't keep secrets in this house, and there was no way I wasn't going to tell her about our daughter making out with some punk in a car."

"Dad, stop! I'm embarrassed enough, okay? I'm sorry that I'm a teenager doing normal teenage things. I'm not a little girl anymore."

"Cecelia, that kid had his hands all over you! Any boy that—"

"You don't even know him! He's a really nice guy!"

"You're right. I don't know him, and that's what worries me. A nice guy wouldn't be doing any of that to my daughter, especially not 200 feet away from my driveway!"

Pam raises her eyebrows and squeezes his arm. "Jim, relax."

"It's not like we were having sex!"

"Oh my god," he exclaims as if the thought physically hurts him; it even looks like it hurts him. "You're not—"

"NO! Is that what you think of me now? Of course I'm not doing that!" She cries, moving towards the stairs. "Dad, please, I don't want to talk about this. I'm sorry I didn't tell you guys, but now you know, okay? I'm going to my room to study. I have a test in pre-calc tomorrow."

xx

"So you knew nothing about this?" Jim asks her while changing out of his work clothes in their bedroom as she lays sideways on the bed. "She didn't tell you anything?"

"Come on. If I knew, I would have told you. All I knew is that she had been talking to a boy and that he's been out with her and her friends a few times, but I didn't know it was this serious," she answers truthfully. "Trust me; I'm just as shocked as you are. I thought it was just some innocent little thing."

"I can tell you that nothing about what I saw was innocent," he says with a bitter laugh before shaking his head and getting upset once again, his whole body shaking as he speaks. "Pam, he was all over her. God, we need to do something. This can't happen. She's grounded, and if I ever see that boy around here again—"

"Jim, listen to yourself. You don't even sound like you right now."

"We don't know who this kid is! I didn't even recognize him!"

"Look, I don't like this either, but you need to relax for a minute, okay? She's a teenager. Telling her 'no' or making her feel guilty is only going to make this worse," she contends sternly before reverting to a calmer tone, knowing that they can't both overreact right now. "Jim, we don't want her to pull away from us."

This seems to strike a nerve, and he meets her eyes with a different kind of concern, as if he never considered that their daughter might emotionally distance herself from them. He looks hurt, but she knows this means that he understands that there is more to consider in this situation than the fact that their daughter had a secret boyfriend.

"Come here," she murmurs, sitting up and patting a spot on the bed next to her.

"She's my little girl," he explains softly, staring dazed at the wall. "I just want what's best for her."

"I know," she assures him gently with a hand on his back. "I do, too, and quite honestly, I'm a little hurt that she didn't tell us. I always thought we were open with her about this kind of stuff. I thought she would feel comfortable telling us, or at least me, but now when I think about some of our conversations over the last few weeks, I probably should have figured it out," she says with a shrug. "I guess I just didn't want to think about her growing up."

He gives a short laugh.

"You're telling me. I mean, I knew that, realistically, I couldn't keep her from dating until she was 30, but it was a nice thought," he sighs. "I just hope he's a good kid."

"Well, she has grown up watching how you treat me," she offers, knowing that they have made a conscious effort over the years to make sure that Cece and Philip know that their parents very much love and respect each other. It is important to her to show her children what her own parents didn't show her and her sister. "And she's grown up being your daughter, so I think that based on those two things, she knows exactly how a boy should treat her and wouldn't settle for someone who isn't good to her."

He nods contemplatively and then smirks after a few seconds.

"I'm not so sure that any teenage boy could possibly treat her as well as I do," he replies somewhat smugly, which he has every right to do because as far as she is concerned, Jim has set the best possible example for Cece and Philip when it comes to their future relationships.

She laughs and nudges him playfully. "That's very true. You are a tough act to follow, Halpert."

He smiles somewhat sadly, and then dejectedly flops down on the bed to lie on his back. She follows, curling up next to him on her side.

"It'll be okay. She's a good girl, Jim."

She puts a hand on his chest, and he laces his fingers through hers.

"I just… it doesn't seem like it was that long ago that she was asking for piggy-back rides and help with tying her shoes, and now today, she's suddenly kissing boys," he says. "It's a lot to process."

"I know," she agrees, squeezing his hand. "It is for me, too."

She misses that little girl who used to excitedly tell them every last detail of her day, who used to climb into bed with them on Saturday mornings just to snuggle, and whose eyes would light up over the simplest of things. She misses watching that little girl with the blonde curls sit on her father's shoulders and run around with her little brother in the backyard.

At this moment, the phrase, 'They grow up so fast,' has never felt so true.

"You know, it's kind of funny because I was the one to talk sense into my dad when Larisa brought home her first boyfriend," he recalls after a few minutes of quiet reflection. "Granted, had I seen that kid kissing my baby sister like that, I probably wouldn't have been okay with it, but my dad—calmest guy in the world—completely freaked out. I had never seen him act that way."

"Like father, like son," she remarks with an appreciative smile.

"Maybe," he replies, looking over at her with a shrug. "I don't know. I mean, isn't this how your dad reacted when you were first with…?"

He trails off, and her face falls. "Actually, no."

"Sorry, uh, I shouldn't have—" He starts, noticing her discomfort.

Her father died six months ago, and it's still a sore subject. They never had a particularly close relationship, especially not one as close as Jim and Cece's, and ever since her parents divorced all those years ago, her father seemed to make less and less of an effort to keep in contact. When he passed away, they hadn't spoken in almost a year, and he knows she regrets it, even though it wasn't entirely her choice.

"No, no. It's fine. I just… he didn't react," she explains with a sad laugh. "He didn't really react at all, which seemed great at the time, but in hindsight, it's like, I wish he would have said something. I'm not sure I would have listened at first, but I wish that at some point he would have asked me, 'Hey, is this guy really good enough for you?' instead of just doing, you know… nothing… like he didn't even care."

"Oh, Pam," he murmurs sympathetically, turning to wrap an arm around her and press a kiss into her hair. "Honey, he cared."

"Cece is so lucky to have you," she says tearily. "To have a dad that cares so much about her well-being. Jim, I love that she has you."

"Hey, she's lucky to have you, too. You're handling this way better than I am. I mean, if it weren't for you, let's be honest, she would have a boyfriend on his way to the hospital and a father in the back of a cop car right now," he jokes, and she laughs. "God, you're amazing."

She looks away and blushes, and when she meets his gaze again, she recognizes a very familiar glint in his eyes. Even after nearly two decades together, they haven't lost that spark, and when he leans in to kiss her, she eagerly meets him halfway.

"Are we seriously going to do this right now?" She asks as he rolls so that the top half of his body hovers over her.

"Do what?" He asks, feigning innocence. "Am I not allowed to make out with my beautiful, amazing wife?"

She laughs through kisses at his choice of words, and even though she knows Cece is down the hall and Philip is due back from a neighbor's house any time now, she can't help herself. It quickly becomes heated, but when his hand starts to slide underneath her shirt, she remembers that their bedroom door is open, and they really should save this for later.

"Jim," she mock-scolds, pushing his hand away with a mischievous giggle, "I thought we said just kissing."

"I changed my mind," he informs her in a low voice before nipping and sucking on her lower lip just before she notices a figure enter her peripheral vision.

Immediately, she breaks the kiss and frantically tries to push him away, but it's too late—Cece is standing just outside their room with a look of pure disgust on her face.

"Oh my god! Close the door!" She shouts as she turns to run back to her room.

They quickly roll away from each other, laughing through their noses in an effort to minimize the sound because, while embarrassed, they cannot deny the humor in this situation.

"I think we're even now, Cecelia!" He calls out, and she swats his arm.

"You're so bad. We just traumatized her."

"Eh, she'll live," he shrugs, quickly jumping out of bed to shut the door.

She shakes her head and laughs, and when he returns, he is a man on a mission.

"Now where were we?"

Somehow, handling all of this doesn't seem like such an ordeal anymore.