Sorry it took so long for the next chapter, but I've had a terrible week. I hope you don't mind me ranting. My little cousin died over the weekend, and most of this week has been spent at my aunt and uncle's house.

Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers. I can't believe the response I've gotten! You guys spoil me. Seriously, thank you for brightening my day.

Pamelamorganhalpert: Thanks! Yeah, I'm not a mother either, but I've heard enough stories and seen enough movies to attempt to describe the anticipation. And thank you for your support!

JAMonMyToast: *Hugs* Thank you! For the support and the compliments and everything! Realistic is what I aim for (well, except for that one fic last year…)

Officejam: Thanks! I hope I don't disappoint!

Glistening blue eyes: I love jam-ness too!

WeNeedMoreJimKaren: Hope you continue to read!

Claire: I figured Jim would be a protective dad. He's so protective of Pam, and Pam's just his fiancé, imagine when he has a kid…

XALLOWspuffyBuFf: Thanks! There will be more paranoia from Jim and fluff from Pam in the future. This is a mostly-fluff chapter, but things will get interesting soon!

Desolate-love: Thanks!

This fic is now dedicated to my cousin, Sophia, who would have loved The Office if she had lived to be old enough to understand it.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Office, but I am currently wearing a Sheinhart Wig Company shirt, and yes, I know that's 30 Rock.

"Oh, come on!" shouted Andy. This was just great. Fan-fricking-tastic! Pam had to go and twist her ankle, and now she was over at the hospital doing God-knows-what. They had lost their best player. "Are you kidding me?"

"We'll be okay," said Phyllis, "depending on who Pam's sub is."

"It's Angela," said Oscar.

"Oh well, we tried," said Phyllis.

"Angela?" Dwight called.

"Go on, two-timing whore," muttered Rolph. Angela rolled her eyes and walked nervously onto the court. As soon as she took her position, the side of her face was hit by volleyball. Her face smarting, she turned to see who threw it.

"I am not sorry and therefore will not apologize," said Rolph. Dwight gritted his teeth. Maybe Rolph was taking things too far.

"We ready?" asked Charles, obviously happy that Pam was off the court.

"Born ready," said Dwight. "Let's do this."

Charles served. The ball soared over Andy's head and in front of Erin, who swung for it and missed by about an inch.

"Oh COME ON!" yelled Andy. "Seriously! What the f…" he noticed the hurt look on Erin's face. "What…fun this is! Isn't this fun? Loads and loads of fun!"

"So, how do you think they're doing?"

"Who's doing?" asked Jim.

"The team?"

"I think," said Jim, looking at Pam's stomach, "that's the last thing on my mind right now." He smiled. "But, to be honest, I bet they're doing fine."

"Really?" asked Pam. "Because I never thought of Angela as much of a volleyball player. Isn't it some sort of sin?"

"Probably," said Jim. "You know what, now that I think about it, they're probably failing miserably." He said this with a grin. "But also, now that I think about it I realize that I couldn't possibly care less."

"Me neither," said Pam, "I just hope they won't want to kill me on Monday."

"You're the only reason they got any points in the first place," said Jim. Pam chuckled. A few silent moments passed.

"Are we telling them?" asked Pam.

"Telling them what?"

"About…" she gestured to her stomach. "This. I mean, we're going to have to eventually. But I want to get the wedding invitations out before I announce it. That way, I don't sound...you know…"

"Yeah, if you thought Phyllis and Angela were harsh when they found out we were dating, just wait."

Pam laughed. She stared out at the houses around them, the world surrounding the little porch of their little house. After a few seconds of thought, she turned to Jim.

"When are we getting married, anyway?"

"We haven't set a date yet?" asked Jim. He set down his wine glass and thought back. "I could've sworn we said-"

"December fifth, I know," said Pam, "But remember, we can't do that because that's when my sister got married and I didn't want to copy." She smiled. "And I'll be the size of a house by then."

"Let's pick a date now," said Jim. "When are you supposed to start showing?"

"Around August, I think."

"That soon?"

"I'm four weeks along already," said Pam, "And it's May."

"Alright," said Jim. He leaned back on the plastic chairs they had brought out to the porch. "Let's do it!"

"Do what?"

"August! We'll get a calendar tomorrow and set it up." He looked at Pam. "No chickening out three days before this time, alright?" Pam glared, then smiled.

"I had a good reason then," she said. "Now I'd have to be crazy."
"Or hormonal," said Jim. He suddenly noticed the glass of deep red liquid in her hand. "Uh, Pam…"

"Yes?"

"I don't think you're supposed to be drinking that…"

"Its grape juice," said Pam. "I hate feeling left out."

"Ah," said Jim. He took a sip of what was in his glass and spat it out.

"And so is yours," said Pam. She smiled devilishly. "Oops."