Author's Note: Just so it isn't too confusing, I'm starting off with the same day that the last chapter was in, except with Peggy's actions of the rest of her day.
Peggy wasn't sure exactly what to do with herself after she left the office. She didn't want to go back to her apartment. The tenants seemed to be able to smell when she was in, and it was always an endless barrage of complaints and general miserliness. So she resolved to pick up a book and head to a diner for lunch.
"Peggy?" She heard a voice ask as she reviewed the back of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Looking up, she almost dropped the book in surprise.
"Joyce!" She grinned and wrapped the dark-haired woman in an embrace. "What are you doing here?"
"I could ask you the same question." Joyce replied, cocking her head to the side. "We work in the same building and you never come to visit me."
"Yeah." Peggy agreed. "It's just after everything with Abe, I wasn't sure if we could still hang out." Joyce shook her head and waved Peggy off.
"Abe takes himself too seriously. Take it as a compliment that he broke up with you." Peggy snorted.
"I should have beaten him to the punch. I can't believe that he broke up with me."
"Such is life." Joyce smiled. "Hey, wanna come out with us tonight? We're going to a block party in Chinatown. You look like a woman who works far too much." Peggy pursed her lips, looking hesitant. "Peggy." Joyce whined. "When was the last time you did something other than go to work and come home? Besides, tomorrow is Saturday."
"Hey, I went to buy tampons a month ago!" She protested. Joyce smirked.
"Come on. I won't keep you out too late. Just come, have a couple of drinks, and unwind a little. I will make sure you are home before 11, and I will ensure you don't wind up going home with Abe number two."
"Well, alright."
"Great." Joyce looked down at the book in her hand. "That is a fantastic read. Don't leave this store without it."
"Shit, does anyone here speak English?" Peggy asked, a little too loudly, as she started on her fifth drink. Joyce smirked as they drew irate glances from the numerous Chinese speakers in the room.
"Maybe you should pick up some Mandarin." She suggested. "Ni hao ma?"
"General Tso's chicken." Peggy replied.
"You become more charming with every passing second. No wonder Abe broke up with you." Joyce joked. "Have you ever had bird's feet?"
"What?" Peggy stared, aghast. "What do you even eat on the feet? It's... feet. Little, tough, birdy feet. It sounds like something I should feed my cat."
"You own a cat now?" Joyce raised an eyebrow, smiling. "I see that you have fully embraced the life of a perpetually single woman."
"There's nothing but married men and jackasses in the city, and most often those two categories overlap. Not that you would know." Joyce shook her head.
"Jackass isn't a male-dominant trait, I assure you. Although all the jackass married men make for many, many unsatisfied housewives." She grinned. Peggy laughed.
"You're horrible. Taking advantage of all those lonely, bored women."
"Oh, they're not lonely or bored after they've been with me." Joyce smiled, but somehow it was different this time. Peggy's sluggish brain tried to read between the lines of her lips, but couldn't quite make out the subtext. So instead, she shotgunned the rest of her drink. Looking down at the empty glass in her hand, she frowned.
"Shit. I think I need to reapply my lipstick." She said sadly, looking at the peach stain around the rim.
"Let me see." Joyce said softly, and put her hand under Peggy's chin, tilting her head up. Peggy blinked, and then felt her friend's soft, full lips on hers. The copywriter froze, uncertain of what to do. Joyce ended the kiss, but stayed close enough that Peggy could still smell her perfume.
"What was that?" She asked stupidly.
"I think I was trying to get you a little unwound." Peggy's mouth gaped, unsure of what to do.
"I don't think-"
"Shh." Joyce shushed her and came in closer, pinning her body against the wall. Peggy could feel her lithe frame pressed against hers, and it felt strange to be so intimate with another woman. "Let yourself go for a moment." Joyce kissed her again, and after a moment of hesitation, Peggy kissed back, trying to will herself into enjoying the moment. As the kiss deepened, and Joyce's hands grabbed her hips, she tried to focus on the feeling of another body so close to hers, tried to feel the arousal that came so easily when she was with men. But her mind was blank, and all she could think about was all that was wrong. Joyce's scent was wrong, her body was too small, and she was soft where a lover should be hard.
"I can't." Peggy broke the kiss and gently pushed herself away, gazing at the floor. "This is wrong. Wrong for me." Joyce's face turned blank and she nodded, taking a step away from Peggy. She took her cigarettes out of her pocket and lit one.
"You can't blame a woman for trying, Peggy."
"I know." Peggy sighed. "I'm pretty irresistible." She watched Joyce smoke for a moment, and immediately felt worse than when she had come. Her love life had come down to a horny lesbian she didn't want, and a jealous boss that she shouldn't want. For a brief moment, she regretted stabbing Abe.
"Good morning!" Peggy's head shot up as she came out of her deep reverie. Roger Sterling approached the coffee maker, trailing his hand along the countertop as he gave an award winning smile to the copywriter. Peggy looked surprised.
"Roger, it's 9. Its' Wednesday. What are you doing here so early?"
"Someone got shot outside of my apartment this morning. The sirens disturbed me, and then the police came knocking door-to-door for statements, so I figured I needed to get out of there before I had to make small talk with one of New York's finest." Peggy nodded.
"I'm sorry, was it someone you knew?"
"Who cares?" Roger asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "I spent $400 on a new mattress so I could sleep like a baby, and some jackass has to go and get shot up outside of my building. Talk about injustice." Peggy stared. "Anyway, sweetheart, I heard that Ciba is coming in today to look at the cartoon you have. Excited?"
"I... guess?"
"Well, with enthusiasm like that I'm sure they'll be begging for more." He raised the mug to cheer her, and then took a sip. "Anyway, after you nail the presentation, we should go out and celebrate. How about you, me and your favourite restaurant?" Peggy blinked.
"What?"
"Just you and me, sweetheart, and a night of the finest the city has to offer." He replied smoothly. Peggy stared at him some more, and then frowned angrily.
"No." And then she took off with her cup, blowing past Roger in a huff. He looked at the ceiling, feeling the warmth of his coffee radiate through his hand.
"Jesus Christ, I am getting old." He reflected as took a thoughtful sip of his coffee. But then again, Peggy was a 30-something year old spinster. She probably wasn't used to a man of his, or Don's, charm. The entire thing was probably very intimidating for her.
Roger strolled back to his office, and swept his gaze across Shirley, who was busily typing his correspondence.
"Shirley." He greeted, and stood at the corner of her desk. "Coming into work and seeing you at this desk is like getting to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow." Shirley stared at him, much like Peggy had done.
"Mr. Sterling, you have a meeting with Ted Chaough at 11am." He nodded slowly.
"Right." As he closed the door to his office, Roger groaned. It was official. He was old.
"Where is he?" Pete muttered, checking his watch. "Ciba will be here any minute." Peggy looked at her watch as well.
"I'll go get him." She said moodily, and quickly crossed the short distance from the meeting room to Don's office.
"Mr. Draper, Ms. Olson here to-" Meredith quickly sputtered as the brunette blew past her.
"Are you coming?" She asked peevishly. Don looked up from his desk.
"Am I invited, or is Ted going to go to this one as well?" Peggy put her hands on her hips.
"I'm already pissed off today, Don. You don't want to make it worse." He sighed and got up to grab his jacket.
"Relax, I'm coming." Peggy turned on her heel and stormed back out, pushing forcefully on the glass doors of the heart of the building.
"He's coming." She said, taking her seat. Don walked in thirty seconds later and eyed the seating arrangement. He crossed the room and sat by Pete, and nodded to Stan. Moments later the receptionist walked in, with John trailing behind her, a large smile on his face.
"Here you go, sir." She replied, and everyone rose to greet the client.
"Thank you honey." He replied as he started a round of enthusiastic hand shaking. "I'm sorry, my father and Henry were called away at the last minute. They're having trouble with one of the other ad firms we've hired. I told them that we should give all of our advertising to you, Peggy. Your work is outstanding." His smile stretched another inch as her looked at her, and Peggy glowed under his praise. "But I assure you, when I give the seal of approval, it is a done deal."
"We're glad to hear that." Don replied, eyeing the younger man with distaste.
"We don't want to take up more of your time than necessary, so let's jump right into it." Pete started cheerfully. "Now, Stan has been working on this non-stop for the last two weeks. He jumped off the plane and went right back to the office to start working on this commercial. It's a work of pride for this agency, and I am sure that you will agree, it is a masterpiece. Stan?" Pete nodded towards the art director, and Stan rose.
"I made the colouring very dramatic because I wanted it to capture people's attention as soon as they started watching it, and to highlight the difference between the world without Imipramine and how the world looks when someone is taking it. I wanted people to feel borderline euphoric just watching the commercial." John smiled.
"That sounds great." Stan then walked across the room and closed the curtains and dimmed the lights.
"Wow." John nodded when the lights came back on. "That was... incredible. Even better than I had imagined it when you were pitching it to us." Everyone on the team, with the exception of Don, smiled. John turned to Stan. "And you managed to churn this out in under two weeks?"
"It was a great project to work on." He replied. "I'm very happy you decided to go with us."
"As am I." John grinned. He rose from his seat, and the others followed suit, save for Don who still eyed the man with a critical frown. "There isn't a thing I would change about this commercial. You knew what we wanted better than we did. NBC isn't going to know what hit them." He turned to Peggy. "Do you think you could create this kind of magic for another product? Like, say, contraceptive pills?" Peggy nodded, and Pete cut in.
"I don't have to tell you that there are few women in advertising, and none can hold a candle to our Peggy Olson. I bet you have a bunch of 60 year old men over at the other ad agency trying to figure out how to sell women's rights to a bunch of 20 year old girls." John laughed.
"You've got that right. I haven't seen so much white hair since my mother started breeding Persian cats." Once again he turned his thousand watt smile to the copy chief. "You know, I'd love to talk to you about how you come up with such imaginative, touching work. Would you mind joining me for dinner tonight? Apparently I'm dining alone now, and it would be great to have a real New Yorker show me why the city is so renown. Assuming, of course, you don't have other plans." Peggy smiled.
"I'd love to. What kind of food do you like?"
"I'll eat anything, as long as it is good." He replied. "I'll give the office a call once I get back to my hotel room and we can firm everything up."
"That sounds great." They both smiled, and John turned towards the rest of the team.
"Thank you all so much for your time. I'm happy to see this go forward. Let us know when you have the air times and dates." After the final round of hand shaking, John left with a final smile and nod towards Peggy. There was a moment of silence as they watched him walk out of the office.
"Wow." Stan finally said. "We could have shown him a photo of his mother dead in her casket being cannibalized by her cats and that still would have gone well."
"Peggy's genius and your artwork is still what brought us this account." Pete said, grinning towards the young copywriter. "Having an extra hook in it doesn't hurt." Don finally rose and shot a hard glare at Peggy.
"Don't do that again." He said. The jovial atmosphere turned sour.
"Do what?" She asked, looking to Pete and Stan for clues.
"That. If we wanted to get his business in that fashion, we would have paid for it." For a moment, everyone was speechless.
"Don." Pete said carefully. "That was uncalled for." Peggy felt angry tears well up in her eyes, and she wordlessly picked up her pad and pen, and scurried off out of the far door.
"Peggy..." Stan's voice was soft and low as he observed her busying herself over papers, trying not to let herself cry.
"What?" She snapped. Stan shut the door behind him as he entered.
"That was unfair. No one else thinks that about you." She hurriedly wiped at her eyes, not caring that she was smearing her mascara.
"I know." She muttered angrily and unconvincingly. Stan gave her a pitying look and went over to wrap his arms around her. She sniffled into his chest as he held her close.
"He shouldn't have said that. Everyone knows that your work speaks for itself. He's just miserable because he's an old hack who's ego is bigger than whatever talent he once had. He's trying to drag you down with him, but he can't because you're too good." Peggy nodded, her tears spilling out silently onto Stan's shirt. She was hurt, and felt powerless, and it felt good to just have someone hold her. They stood like that for a few minutes before Stan broke the embrace and put both hands on her shoulders, gazing kindly at her. "And even though John obviously wants up your skirt, it is because you are a talented, intelligent, beautiful woman, and no man wants to let one of those slip away."
"I'm just so... tired of this." Peggy sniffled. Stan nodded, and even though Peggy knew he didn't truly understand, she felt comforted.
"Any time you want to break away and start your own agency, I will be right there behind you. And we can take all of Draper's Canadian Club and pour it all over this thousand dollar office furniture and burn this shithole to the ground. I'll light the match."
"Who would be our account man?" She asked. Stan sighed.
"I hate to say it, but Pete's grown on me. Like a fungus, but he has his charm. Maybe we can woo Ken back from Dow Chemical."
"I'd like that." Peggy said softly, smiling. Stan smiled and let go of her shoulders.
"You should take the rest of the day off. It's almost 2 anyway. When Krebler calls, I'll tell the secretaries to forward him to your home phone. And then you will go out, and have a great night, and show all the girls in the office the jewellery he bought you. Make Ted jealous." Peggy gave out a half-hearted laugh.
"I don't know if that is usually what a copywriter gets from dinner."
"Hey, he did ask you to show him New York's best. Tiffany's is right up there, as Sarah keeps reminding me." Peggy laughed, and went to her desk to get her compact and she carefully wiped the black trails of tears away.
"I think I'll go to the movies. Get my mind off of this for a while."
"Good idea."
