Author's Note: I started writing this before the new season, and thought that I'd wait the new season out and see where I should edit my fic. However, the last episode was too depressing, so I'm just going to post this instead. Enjoy!

Neither of them had intended for it to happen.

It was a trying time at Sterling Cooper and Partners. With the company's latest merger with giant McCann Erickson, everyone found themselves caught up in the red tape of bureaucracy. Despite the promise that Sterling Cooper and Partners would retain their independence, Jim Hobart seemed to have his fingers in every nook and cranny of the agency. He was constantly demanding they drop accounts due to conflicts, he kept 'stopping by' to snoop on the partners, and any time someone placed a call to one of McCann's departments, it was obvious that no one was taking them seriously. Their creative work now had to be run past McCann's creative team before it could be presented to the client, and they seemed to enjoy sending Don back to the drawing board. His agency was being neutered, with the exception of Harry Crane, who seemed to have fallen in Jim Hobart's good graces.

"This is bullshit." Peggy said, angrily jabbing her cigarette butt into the ashtray. "We have to spend all this time creating great pieces of advertising, only to get shit on by them and chase our tails trying to figure out what McCann wants, and what the client wants, and how we can reconcile them."

"Everyone knows it's bullshit Peggy. Nothing good comes from serving two masters." Don sighed, sipping his Canadian Club as he looked through McCann's latest rejection. Apparently their latest ideas for a Sunkist commerical had been 'too hippie' – the girls looked too loose, the sun was too bright, and no one in New York would want to buy something that looked like an advertising campaign for the state of California.

To be honest, Don was rather melancholy with his extra work. He despised being overrun by the talentless hacks at the sausage factory, but he felt a sort of calm when working in the silence of the evening with Peggy. It was a distraction from his divorce and his vices, to a certain extent, and if he was honest with himself, working with Peggy was almost as satisfying as being alone.

It was almost 10pm, and this was not an unusual work day for either of them. It had been months and months of working until late evening, working on the weekends, working until Peggy thought her brain would explode. She felt a nervous tension that ran through her, ready to be released. Maybe it was just the nicotine. Maybe it was her fear that her chances at love and family were steadily slipping through her grasp with every night she spent at the office.

"I should have listened to Joan on the first day." She sighed, slumping back on the couch, propping her stocking-clad feet on Don's coffee tale. "She told me if I played my cards right I would marry some rich man and live out in the country and raise children. Now I just work for children. Why is she always right?" Don smiled into his copy and took another sip of his drink.

"What happened to that guy that you went to Paris with? I thought you liked him." Peggy made a face.

"He was a lawyer. There's only so long you can hide the fact that you're an asshole before your trousers are around your ankles and you're mooning the world." Don looked up at her and smirked, his green eyes lightly glassed over from the cumulative drinks of the day.

"We should work that into the ad for Hugo Boss. See what McCann thinks about that." Peggy's face lit up as she laughed, and Don grinned again, glad that he could put a few feet of distance between her and her souring mood. He rose to his feet and approached his liquor cabinet, raising his eyes at her and motioning towards the bottles of alcohol.

"Sure. I'm probably going to wind up sleeping on my couch again anyway." The copywriter got up and Don took her glass, throwing a couple more ice cubes in before pouring her whiskey. Peggy took her drink and shifted, leaning her hip against the cart and looking at her director carefully.

"How about you, Don? How are the divorce proceedings going?" He sighed as he poured, and threw back a quick gulp before answering.

"OK. It has been amicable, Megan hasn't fought me on anything. I think she just wants me out of her life as soon as possible." Peggy nodded, looking at her glass and tracing the rim with her index finger.

"I really like Megan. I can see why you chose her. I'm sorry it didn't work out." Don liked that about Peggy. She didn't go overboard on platitudes and reassurances, didn't dig further than he wanted to go. There was a mutual understanding of where the line of conversation ended, an appreciation of all that was not said but that they both knew.

For Peggy, Don's company was reassuring in some ways. He had two ex-wives, three children, and he was still a miserable mess. Perhaps she wasn't missing as much as she thought she was. They were both stuck in the same place, except Don had alimony payments to make. 'Damn it,' she reflected. 'I could be collecting alimony payments.'

"Well, that's the way it goes." He looked into her eyes and held her gaze, her bold blue irises looking for some sort of emotion behind it, but she couldn't seen any. He was just calm, steady, and slightly drunk. She admired that about him. He may be a mess, but somehow he always came back up.

"Here's to Mrs. Draper the third." She said smiling, and raised her glass. Don smiled at her again as he clinked their glasses together and they drank deeply.

"Say Peggy, I haven't married you yet." He raised his eyebrow. "Are you ready to have your life ruined?"

"I don't need any help with that, Don. Besides, you ruined my work with St. Joseph's. Don't think I've forgotten about that! You also didn't let me go to Paris." She mockingly pointed a stern finger towards him, eyes narrowing as she swayed. Don put down his drink and grabbed her wrist, pulling her in closely to him, and started to tickle her.

"Don, what the hell!" Peggy giggled as her creative director pulled her blouse out of her skirt and began tickling her sides. "Stop it!"

"Come on, Peggy. You can't be that mad at me. You're giggling!"

"Don't tell me how I feel!" She squealed, and finally lost her balance. Her glass flew through the air and hit Don's desk, shattering as it landed. Don tried to grab her, but Peggy wound up taking him down too, and they dissolved into a giggling mess on his immaculate carpet.

"I think you are more drunk than I gave you credit for." She grinned, matching her mentor's own smile.

Don paused, his mouth relaxing as they laid face-to-face. He didn't know what came over him. He could have blamed the alcohol, or the relatively long period of celibacy he had been through (two weeks at this point). But he felt some sort of explosion, somewhere deep inside of him, and suddenly there seemed to be only one thing to do. He kissed his coworker, long and hard.

Peggy wasn't sure what was happening until she felt his warm lips on hers, and smelt the intoxicating scent of his cologne and the Canadian whiskey on his breath. Her heart stopped, and she felt herself go limp, her own lips unsure of themselves. After what seemed like an eternity, Don withdrew and looked her deeply in the eyes with a dark glaze of lust.

"Don..." she croaked finally. "We can't do this."

"Peggy," he sounded exasperated, and a gentle, beseeching look overtook him. "We are adults. I am getting divorced. You aren't dating anyone. We are both couped up in this office until Jim Hobart shuffles off of his mortal coil. Let's at least enjoy ourselves a little." He paused, gazing intensely at his protege, and when he began again, his voice was low and sultry. "It only has to be this once, and then it'll be like nothing had ever happened."

Peggy was aware that it wasn't a particularly great argument, and really felt like she shouldn't give in without a truly inspiring sales pitch from Don. She had earned at least that from him. The small, mousy secretary in her was quietly whispering to get away from what could only turn into a clusterfuck. A much more primal part of her, that seemed to flow in her blood, made the decision. She grabbed the back of Don's head, and mashed her lips against his.

After, they lay gasping on Don's carpet, his head nestled on her sternum between her breasts. His fingers gentling rubbing circles on her hip. She ran her hand through his hair before reaching up to the coffee table and grabbing her pack of cigarettes. Don was a good lover technically, Peggy thought. He made the right movements, expertly responded to her gasps and moans, but there was something missing. Don didn't make love – he had sex. Like he was scratching an itch.

"Want one?" She asked. He let out a low chuckle.

"Sure." He repositioned himself on his elbows and grabbed a Lucky Strike from the package Peggy gave him. "Do you have a lighter?" Peggy groaned.

"Shit. It's on couch somewhere." Don gave her a small kiss on her stomach and got up, retrieved the lighter and lit both of their cigarettes before sitting down on the couch, eyes gazing out of the window of his office, both of them smoking in the afterglow.

"Well," Peggy finally broke the silence. "Who would have seen that coming?"

"Everyone already thinks you slept with me, Pegs. We're behind the times on this."

"No," Peggy got up and started fixing her skirt and shirt. "Everyone thinks that I slept with you to become a copywriter. I don't think I'm getting anything from this." Don shrugged and took another drag of his cigarette. Peggy finished putting herself together, and took a moment to stare at Don, trying to figure out exactly where this put them. He gave her no hints, and just continued to stare stoically out into Manhattan.

"It's time for me to go home. I'll see you tomorrow." Don finally looked at her and nodded.

"Have a safe ride."

"Don't drink too much more. If you're drunk enough to sleep with me, the furniture might not be safe." She turned to leave, but he called her name and she stopped and looked back around into his steady gaze.

"Sleeping with you wasn't a mistake." He said quietly. "But I don't want it to change the dynamic of this company. We have enough shit going on without more conflict between the people of this agency." Peggy stared for a moment, nodded, and turned back around and walked out of his office.