Favor Returned
By Auburn Red
An Only Fools & Horses/Mad Men Cross-Over
None of these characters belong to me. The crew of Mad Men belong to Matthew Weiner and the gang from Only Fools and Horses to John Sullivan. This is for entertainment and with many of my previous fics including Tit for Tat, Chapter titles are lines or titles from songs. For example the first chapter is a line from The Buggles' "Video Killed the Radio Star". There will also be references to real people and events. In many cases they either belong to themselves or are amalgams of real people.
The setting is 1981, nearly 15 years from the setting of the most recent season of Mad Men and just before the first season of Only Fools and is a sequel to my previous OFAH/Mad Men Cross-Over "Tit for Tat."Very important for readers to know that this story exists in the AU timeline suggested by Tit for Tat (so OFAH fans take note if you haven't read it: Freddie Robdal died a lot later than was said in the series) It would probably enhance your understanding of this one to read it, but things do get explained in this story, so it's not necessary. Since "Tit for Tat" was predominately an Only Fools story, this story is predominately a Mad Men story to make up for it.
Chapter One: We Can't Rewind, We've Gone Too Far
Early July 1981-
Life doesn't move forward or backward. Sometimes it just runs in circles. Peggy Olson, Creative Director of Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce realized that as she was driving the rental car through London. She drove through London moving along with the traffic. She thought that she had turned right towards the office where she was supposed to meet her clients, instead she turned left. She cursed the roundabout for causing her to go in that endless loop, then getting her lost on the wrong road. She continued to drive with the traffic. At least she didn't drive on the wrong side as she saw other Americans do.
It figures that she would have this problem returning to London after 14 years from her last trip. It figures that being back here would remind her of the last time that she had been there and of course it figured that recalling that would bring to mind everything else that had been going on particularly her uncomfortable conversation with Pete at Don Draper's funeral reception.
She remembered the reception. Don Draper had kept his sense of humor to the end, taking pride in the fact that he outlived all of the original founders. It wasn't a slow death, Peggy took at least a small amount of comfort in that. It wasn't a long painful illness the way Roger Sterling had, dying after many heart surgeries later. He had just slipped away quietly after work with no announcements and no foreshadowing beforehand. Everyone was at the funeral, of course Pete and Peggy were there, the current faces of SCDP. They had long taken over Roger and Don's roles as accounting and creative directors respectively but they both felt as much as they had carved their own niche, they still felt haunted by the shadows that had been left behind. Harry Crane was there. He had long left the advertising world to work in the programming department at NBC, but still kept in touch with his old friends at SCDP (whenever NBC needed advertising, they were the first).In fact, he was a liasion/go-between for this current assignment.
Joan Harris had arrived, a long-time war widow still going strong in her early 50's with a long string of boyfriends and a still youthful appearance (owing a lot to Clairol and Botox but who didn't?) as saucy as ever and maintaining control over the funeral arrangements. Sal Romano and Ken Cosgrove were there, even though they had long moved to the West Coast after Ken's tour of duty had ended with a bullet in his spine. They had both come through rough times with Sal being for the first time open about his sexuality and Ken coming to terms with his own sexuality and suffering through the occasional Vietnam ghost. No wonder they had moved away, just to get away from it all but they were stronger than ever. Of course Sal never held grudges after being dismissed from SCDP. He was even a pallbearer at Don's funeral.
Of course many others were there, Paul, Smitty, Kurt, Danny, Stan, Lois,Megan, Hildy, Allison, so many others. Some had remained in the fields creativity and advertising in one way or another; some had left to begin families of their own or moved on to other opportunities. Even Betty Francis had arrived, still as gorgeous as ever like a fading prima donna still aware of her appearance. She had arrived with three tall young people that Peggy knew to be Sally, Bobby, and Eugene Draper. She could see their mother and father in them. It amazed her as though she could hear the voices and recognize the mannerisms of people that she knew they were inside bodies that no longer looked familiar. Peggy wondered how much she had changed over the years to them.
Her hair had grayed very little, hidden by the brown strands that were now cut in a feathered style. She remembered meeting Pete, his hair very gray but very distinguished and kissing him on the cheek at the reception. It amazed her how they had evolved to a deep friendship and a trustful working relationship. They balanced each other out with Peggy's creativity merged with Pete's talent for business. The two made SCDP, a force to be reckoned with. As for the rumors well let tongues wag, the two were long past caring about that. The two drank martinis as Peggy began. "How's Trudy doing?" she asked.
Pete sighed. "Doing better, but still the chemo's been rough." Peggy touched her colleague's shoulder in sympathy. Trudy had been diagnosed a couple of years ago and though the breast cancer was currently in remission, she still had the after effects. Pete had been a wonderful husband throughout devoting as much time as he could to her and the kids. It was ironic in a way that when divorce wasn't common, Don and Roger and the others had multiple affairs and unhappy marriages; Now though Pete and Trudy had their troubles (even going through a brief separation in the early 70's) and divorce had become a nonissue, they were extremely happy together. Perhaps they were both aware of what they could lose that's why they were more than ever determined to make it work.
They continued to drink in silence. "You know Chris called me again?" Pete asked referring to the boy that was not officially in their lives, but still an omnipresent ghost.
"I know he called me too, actually before he called you," Peggy said.
"So why did you refer him to me?" Pete asked.
"Well, I said what most women would in that situation, 'ask your father,'" Peggy quipped. Pete's mouth dropped open, but closed upon seeing Peggy's smile. Then the two laughed and toasted each other. "How did he even find us? Adoptions are supposed to be closed aren't they?"
Pete shrugged. "Who knows private detectives word of mouth," he suggested. "It's not like there's a social place that he can go on, like on a computer for example, and find people around the world, with their pictures and contact information." They drank in silence for a minute. "It's just for drinks," he said. "You know Chris is in NYU now?"
"Yeah, through no help of our own," Peggy said. " Have you told Trudy yet?"
"With the chemo, I didn't want to upset her," Pete said." I mean she knows about it in general, but not that he tried to contact us."
"Then, I can't believe that you're on board with this," Peggy said.
"I'm not," Pete said with the same-old defiance. "I'm sure that he is interested in some sort of financial gain. The best thing that we can do is nip it in the bud."
Peggy gave him a look, the one that he was familiar with. The look that said that she recognized bullshit when she heard it. He sighed. "Alright, I've been doing a lot of thinking especially now with Trudy and Don-"
"You do want to meet with him," Peggy guessed.
"You know Peggy," Pete said. "Whenever we talk about it, you never refer to him by his name, it's Chris-"
"-Richardson," Peggy reminded him. "Chris Richardson, not Olson not Campbell. He isn't a part of us."
"Maybe he doesn't want to be," Pete suggested. "Maybe he just wants to see where he came from."
"It's a door that closed long ago," Peggy replied. "I don't want to open it again."
"But it never shut,"Pete replied. "It's open just a crack and it will never shut if we don't face it. Chris is a part of us that we need to face."
"But we have to move forward," Peggy reminded him.
"Sometimes you have to go backwards to go forward," Pete said.
Peggy drank again. "We have that trip to London and I'll think about it. When we get back, I'll give you a decision but it's a final one. No talking me around, no guilt. If it turns out that you have to meet Chris alone then you do it." Pete sat in silence and deep thought but he nodded.
Peggy's thoughts returned to the present and the sputtering car. "No, no," Peggy cursed under her breath. "Please don't, please don't." She begged. Despite her earnest pleas, the car stopped and died on the side of the road. The woman grunted and exited her vehicle. Peggy opened the hood and looked inside.
"Help you miss?" a male voice interrupted her. Peggy turned to see a tall young man with fair hair cut in an odd way. He was dressed in a camouflage jacket which didn't even come down to his hips, he was so tall.
"If you're a mechanic," Peggy said. The man looked closely at the engine as if in deep thought. He cupped his chin in his hand and stared closely at the machine.
"Ah I see the problem," he said turning towards her. Peggy waited in mock-anticipation. "The car's dead."
"Really," Peggy said sarcastically. "I had no idea. Is there somewhere I can use a phone?" She wished for the 100th time that there could be a phone that people could carry around with them.
"There's the Nag's Head," the young man suggested. "It's over-you know what hang about. I'll take you there."
"Thank you," Peggy said. She reached into her pocket book, but the man stayed her hand.
"No, miss, it's alright," he said. "Consider it a favor. Besides this is a dangerous area, a lady such as yourself don't want to be caught out here on your own."
Peggy smiled. Men were the same the world over. "I'm from Brooklyn, I think I can handle it." After all, you could take the girl out of Brooklyn but you couldn't- The man smiled and politely waved her to follow him.
Peggy followed the man. Since his legs were so much longer than hers, he seemed to charge far ahead. It was a bit of a struggle to keep up with him. She stopped for a minute. Peggy could see a familiar looking vehicle, a bright yellow van. The color was somewhat dulled with age and there were three wheels. Peggy could see that there was writing on it, she was about to walk closer when she felt a tap on her shoulder.
"We're there miss," the young man said as he opened the door and waved her inside. Peggy thanked him and followed him into a pub. Peggy entered and walked past two men, one with a long face like a horse and the other with a dark mustache. Horse Face said something that Peggy couldn't understand but Mustache opened his mouth and let out the most unusual laugh that she ever heard. The young man pointed to the phone in the door. Peggy said her thanks, ordered a lager from the woman at the bar, then dialed a few numbers.
First she dialed the car rental to send for a tow truck. The dispatch said that they were very sorry and that they would send a vehicle as soon as possible. "We endeavour to give satisfaction and hope that you shall do business with us again."
"We'll see about that," Peggy tried to be polite but was seriously thinking, Fat chance pal!
She then dialed Pete's hotel room. "Peggy," he said. " I was just about to leave."
"I'm sorry, Pete," Peggy said. "But it looks like I might be late." As she spoke, she paid for and sipped on the lager as she explained the situation. "Could you hold them off for a few minutes and tell them I'm on my way?"
"And what am I supposed to hold them off with?" Pete asked sarcastically. "You have the presentation."
"I don't know, "Peggy added as she drank. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the tall gangly young man making forward motions and talking to himself as though he were trying to psych himself up. "They're music and broadcasting executives, I'm sure that you'll think of something."
"Teriffic," Pete glowered. "How long do you think you're going to be?"
"I'll see you as soon as I can," she said. "I'll meet you at their building."
"Alright, I'll see you then," Pete said doubtfully. "Until then, I'm gonna get a good stiff drink in the hotel bar."
"I'm on top of that," Peggy agreed as she drank herself. She promised to be there as soon as she could and hung up waiting for the truck.
She wandered to an empty seat right behind Horse Face and Mustache who were still caught up in their conversation. The young man who accompanied her, strode towards her. "So you get it all taken care of, miss?"
He asked.
"Yes, a tow truck will be arriving in about fifteen to thirty minutes," she said. "Ah good good," the young man said. Peggy noticed that he shifted nervously never knowing what to do with his hands. He constantly put one hand in his pocket. "So umm miss, would you like me to buy you a drink or something?" Peggy motioned at the drink in her hand.
"Ah you have one." He said. "You come prepared." Peggy bit her lip to keep from laughing at the young man's awkward shyness.
He ordered a half lager as the two other men looked up. "Hello Rodney," Mustache called.
"Hey Boycie," Rodney responded.
"How is it' been Dave?" the other man called.
Rodney bristled with embarrassment but nodded. "Couldn't be better, Trigger."
"So which is your name, Rodney or Dave?" Peggy asked amused.
"Rodney, well to everyone except Trigger," Rodney replied embarrassed again. "Didn't catch your name miss?"
"Well I'm Marg- uh Peggy Olson," Peggy replied extending her hand as Rodney shook it. A thought occured to her, after all she was in Peckham again and the boy did seem familiar. "Your last name wouldn't happen to be Trotter would it?"
"Yeah that's right," Rodney replied uncertainly. Peggy smiled knowingly. "And you have a brother named, Del don't you?"
Rodney frowned. "Yeah, are you a police officer or just really good at this game?"
Peggy's eyes widened, as she shook her head. She knew it! She couldn't believe that she was here in London after all this time and she happened to see Rodney Trotter again. After all she had only remembered seeing him way back in '66 and he was a small boy then who had been kidnapped. Peggy just happened to see him with his kidnappers and dialed Del's number telling him where they were and who Rodney was with. Several different emotions ran through her nostalgia, mixed with sadness, and a feeling of eerieness about that time. Of course, her awkward conversation with Pete at Don's reception was mixed in and she knew why: seeing Rodney that day reminded her of the boy she had to give up. Chris, she remembered, his name is Chris.
"You alright, Miss Olson?" Rodney asked. "Yes I'm fine," Peggy said. "Let's just say that I met your brother a long time ago."
"Oh well he's right outside if you want to see him selling souveniers for the upcoming wedding." Peggy nodded knowing of the whole media celebrity circus surrounding the engagement of Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer. "I'll take you out to meet him if you like," Rodney offered. Peggy looked down at her watch.
"Well sure I have some time to kill," Peggy replied. She stood with Rodney as the two finished their drinks and headed outside.
Rodney led the American woman to the stand where a man stood to a crowd. He was dressed in flashy red turtleneck and gray suit and wore gold jewelry. Peggy walked closer to him to get a closer look. Even though the man was older, she could still see traces of the Derek Trotter that she remembered, his charming smile, his expressive hand gestures, constant moving about, were all familiar to her now in a man in his mid-thirties rather than a young man in his late teens or early twenties. True his hair line had receded and there were lines on his face that came less from age than from undeniable hardship, and somehow to Peggy he seemed to have gotten smaller over the years, but she could still recognize the charming Englishman that she knew all those years ago. He held up what appeared to be two sock puppets, one with blond yarn and the other with very large ears.
"Yes here we have right here, souveniers just in time for the big day. You want to entertain your kiddies and tell them of the day when true love entered Buck House, well here's your chance two lovely dollies for the little 'uns." As he held up the female doll which Peggy assumed was supposed to be Lady Diana, the doll's hair fell off. Del laughed sheepishly. "Of course you could mix and match, change her to fit any needs. A future princess for your little princess."
He then held up an Etch-A-Sketch with the image of the Royal Couple sketched on it. "Now this here is a one-of-a kind gift that you can only get here, this was drawn by a very consummate and talented artist who spent days on it practically made himself blind to catch the intricate details of the lovely couple." He held up the Etch-A-Sketch accidentally shaking it and the picture came apart. Some of the spectators groaned. Peggy shook her head stifling a laugh. Rodney just shook his head and rolled his eyes, but he smiled as if to say "how typical." Del however was not daunted.
"What we have here is a slightly used Etch-A-Sketch, quite an imprerssive tool for any budding young artist, isn't it?" The crowd laughed at the recovery. Del then motioned a woman over and showed her a tea pot with the Windsor seal on it. "How about you Miss genuine Royal Albert Fine China, made right here in England and hand painted for the Big Day."
The woman looked closely at the tea pot. "If it was made in England, why does it say 'Made in China' on it?"
Del gave an embarrassed laugh. " 'Cause it's made of Fine China isn't it?" Some of the crowd separated. Del accepted a few coins from different items, but not that many. He called the people back. "Alright well thank you then, see you around. Charming, Thank you miss. No trouble sir. Nice day to you. Thank you good-bye, good-bye."
Rodney and Peggy waited until the crowd had dissolved before they approached the market trader. Rodney groaned. "I told you that stuff wouldn't work, Del."
"Alright, Rodders, alright," Del said. "Still a few more days until the wedding. You know you have been back from Basingstoke for not even a fortnight and alright you're getting on me last nerve. Sometimes, I think I should have left you in the drug cell with the real hardened dealers so you can be their special little mate."
Rodney blushed embarrassed and put his hand back in his pocket. "Del," he said. Peggy didn't say anything instead smiled wryly.
Del turned to the woman as if seeing her for the first time. "You interested in something miss? I mean you can't possibly be interested in this wally brain here." He pointed at Rodney who sputtered with humiliation.
Peggy shook her head and laughed. "Well obviously you two found each other." She said poiting at the two.
Del looked at her slightly confused but then closely as if studying her. "You're American. Don't know too many of them . Have we met before?"
"I should say so," Peggy said. She then took out her business card.
Del took it and read. "Margaret Olson, Creative Director Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce; You know Margaret is my most absolute favorite name-" He then read again and his eyes widened in recognition. "Peggy? Peggy Olson!"
"Yeah," Peggy said. "It's good to see you again, Del."
"You too, Little Red Riding Hood," Del greeted as he shook her hand rather warmly. Peggy rolled her eyes at the familiar nickname that he once gave her and looked down at her dark red blazer and business pants covering her white top. I suppose it's still appropriate, she thought wryly.
"So you two old friends?" Rodney began dryly with more than a bit of curiosity.
"Oh right," Del said. "Rodney this here is Peggy Olson-"
"-Yeah we already met," Rodney said.
Del continued, "This young lady years ago, a total stranger mind you, took it upon herself to be a Good Centurion-"
"-Samaritan," Peggy corrected. Del looked at her confused. "I think you mean Good Samaritan."
Del dismissed her correction with a wave of his hand. Rodney shook his head knowingly. "Don't bother."
"Well Centurion, Samaritan, one of them 12 Disciples that Jesus hung about with," Del continued. "-Anyway, Peggy paid me an important favor years ago-one I owe a great thanks to."
"Why?" Rodney asked. "What did she do?"
Peggy opened her mouth, but closed it again upon seeing Del's stare and shake of his head.
She shrugged and flushed embarrassed. "Really, it was nothing. I was just in the right place at the right time."
"A lot more than nothing to me," Del said softly his voice more serious than it was before. He cleared his throat, but then continued. "Anyway, let's just say years ago Miss Olson here extended her hand in a very dark time and aided me when no one else did." Peggy shrugged again, but offered no comment feeling embarrassed and uncomfortable about his gratitude.
"What happened?" Rodney asked his curiosity piqued.
"Dark days, bruv," Del said. "That's all I'm going to say on the subject, dark days."
The three people stood in an awkward silence when out of the corner of her eye, Peggy saw the tow truck pull up by the Nag's Head. "Oh I have to go, thanks again for your help, Rodney. It was nice meeting you!" She shook Rodney's hand and then Del's. "It was good seeing you again, Del." She then turned to leave, when Del called her up.
"Peggy, would it be the axiom of foolishness if I were to ask you out for a drink tonight?" He asked.
Peggy looked down at her watch. "Well I have a presentation and-" She wondered what he had in mind.
Del waved his hand. "No, I'll just be a true gentleman. Just a sociable drink among old friends. Think of it as a way of returning the favor, a long overdue thank you."
Peggy glanced over at the tow truck. "Alright, I'll meet you at the Nag's Head if that's alright, later this evening. Around 7:30?"
"About right to me," Del agreed. "I'll see you then mon petite chevre."
Mentally, Peggy translated the French phrase-my little goat? She assumed, or rather hope that was a mistranslation, and he didn't mean anything by it. She laughed and they shook hands, again, this time he took it in his hand and kissed it. "I'll see you then, Del." She said.
She then entered the Nag's Head separating her thoughts of meeting the Trotter brothers and any other personal issues instead focusing on her meeting with these music and broadcasting executives. It was an interesting idea and presented a marketing challenge that she was looking forward to discussing it. After all, whoever heard of a 24 hour music television station?